


Vampires Will Hurt You

by TeliUmbrarum



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Asexual Character, Awkward Boners, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Breaking and Entering, Broken Bones, Drinking, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gaming, Ghoul, Gun Violence, Light Bondage, Light Sadism, Murder, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Some Humor, Stabbing, Tags Contain Spoilers, Torture, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeliUmbrarum/pseuds/TeliUmbrarum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An oddball gamer is dragged violently into a world of darkness hidden in the shadows of our own after he attacks a mysterious home invader.</p>
<p>This story is mostly original work and while it relies heavily on the Vampire: The Masquerade mythology, as well as the mythology of the larger World of Darkness setting, it is primarily concerned with original characters.</p>
<p>Fair warning, I'm tagging this as I go. Expect warnings and tags to be updated suddenly and keep an eye on the notes at the start of each chapter. I'll try to mark explicit or particularly heavy content clearly. So with that warning in mind, this story will probably go on to contain an abundance of sex, violence, death, undeath, and all those other things that are so heavily associated with vampires at large.</p>
<p>I hope you have as good a time reading this as I do writing it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Never Told You What I Do For A Hobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings here, just gratuitous nerdery

_I am a creature of the night. When the sun sets, I rise to prowl the darkness. I’m also a creature of the city. Where the nightlife is, that’s where you’ll find me, skirting the edges of society._

_I am a monster in the guise of a man. When you look at me you see another human. Casual, unassuming, you suspect nothing. But under the skin is a ravening beast. Forever hungry, never sated. I long for the passions I held in life. But now I can only covet them from afar. I am not without passion, though. The hunger that moves me, drives me onto the streets every night, is greater than any emotion I felt when I was alive. Feeding that hunger is a greater pleasure than any vice of the mortal world._

_What do I hunger for? The blood of the living. The essence of life flowing through mortal veins. I am a monster of legend. Vampire._

_Tonight I wander the alleyways near a popular nightclub, hoping to catch a drunk or drugged out reveler who may have lost their way. Or who seeks the darkness for other, less savory reasons. It doesn’t take me long to happen across a potential victim. A pretty girl leans against the brick and mortar of the alley wall. She’s trying to keep her balance as she shakes what looks like a phone in anger._

_Normally I would approach her peacefully. Maybe ask her if she needs help, engage her in conversation, lower her guard. But it’s getting early and I still haven’t eaten. I skirt the light trickling in from the streetlights as silently as I can, approaching as close as possible to my chosen fare. As near as I can get without raising alarm I bare my fangs and leap from the shadows with alacrity no human could match. I force her against the wall and prepare to sink my fangs into her exposed neck…_

“She shoots you.” Greg says from across the table. 

I roll my eyes, “Right. So. I assume she’s faking drunk and I failed my check to see that. Even though, as a matter of record, I have the second highest Perception here. She gets body checked into a wall and pinned to it by a vampire. Then somehow manages to draw, faking drunk or not I know the difference between a phone and a gun so she had to get it from somewhere, and fire a weapon without me noticing or interfering in any way. Is that accurate?” 

Greg rests his elbow on the table and shoves his face into his hand, looking at me from between his fingers. He sighs, “She’s a hunter, she can handle a little roughhousing. As for the gun. You’re pretty hungry right? You were too focused on feeding.” 

I look around the table to see if anyone else is hearing this bullshit. No one meets my eyes. They never do. It doesn’t normally bother me, Greg and I can get a little intense so I don’t blame them, but the last couple of game nights Greg has been systematically trying to destroy me. Or my character anyways. 

“Bullshit dude. We just discussed my Perception check. That would be like your girlfriend missing my erection when I’m making out with her.” I’m getting angry now. 

Our arguments are usually over rules. Mostly the interpretation of various minutiae the writers didn’t think to cover. Childish? Maybe. But I can think of at least one quibble where the placement of a comma resulted in me teleporting an entire continent. I normally let stuff like _this_ go after the first back and forth. If he’s fudging the action like this it’s usually for plot reasons. But like I said, he’s been out to get me from the first session of this campaign. 

He ignores my little barb and focuses on the main issue, “You failed the check man. She shoots you in your whiney, emo face.” 

“Oh, it’s a head shot now. From the hip. While pinned to a wall. I notice you haven’t actually rolled any dice. At all. The entire night in fact.” I’m still just simmering, but the rest of the group is starting to look uneasy. 

Greg sweeps up a handful of dice and dumps them on the table in front of himself. He makes a point of not looking at them and stares straight into my eyes, “Oh damn. Looks like she got a critical too.” 

Holy shit. I’ve never seen Greg actually angry before and it’s worrying. Greg’s a big guy. I don’t talk to him much outside of gaming so I don’t know a lot about him. I do know he’s getting a free ride through college on some kind of athletic scholarship and he looks the part. 

I decide discretion is the better part of valor and give a little. “Fine, she shoots me dead in the face. Unless the pope himself blessed those bullets I rip her in half and end the night with a headache.” 

Greg’s voice is a bit calmer now that I’ve backed down a little, but there’s still a warning edge to it. “It’s a big gun. Desert Eagle or something. The bullet is cast from the melted down tip of the _Lancea Longini_. Somebody bigger than the pope wanted you out of the picture.” 

This blows my mind. Every word of that sentence, in sequence, is the new stupidest, most infuriating thing I’ve ever heard. But fuck it. Fine. I’m not martyring myself over this. Besides, I was strong enough that even with a piece of the Holy Lance lodged in my grey matter I could still be brought back with a ritual. 

“Yeah. That’ll do it. Who’s going to be my knight in shining armor?” I look around the table. 

First up is Alex. Cool guy, we meet up at a local diner to play chess sometimes. Alex plays the werewolf. He’s the guy with the _highest_ perception check. Today though, he disappoints me, “Out of the city helping my pack fight that hellhound, remember.” 

Fair enough 

Next around the table is ‘other Alex’. She’d be ‘the chick’ if we didn’t have three. She’s playing… I don’t know what she’s playing. It’s from another system entirely but she and Greg somehow managed to shoehorn it in. Badly in my opinion. Greg normally hates shit like that too. If she weren’t gay, asexual, and in a committed relationship I’d swear she’d have had to blow him. Maybe she got her girlfriend to do it. 

Joking aside, he probably did it just because it would make me even madder than him. Like I said, he’s been out to get me this entire campaign. She shakes her head, “My character hates yours for that taxi incident. He wouldn’t help even if he were there.” 

Next to ‘other Alex’ is her girlfriend, Lydia. Lydia is my favorite for two reasons. First, she consumes a lot of the same media as me and thus gets my referential humor. Second, not only does she get the jokes, she laughs at them. She’s also just a pretty great person in general. A little bubbly sometimes, but also sharp as a razor. She hangs out at the diner with us sometimes too. 

If I sound like I’m crushing on her it’s probably because, for a while, I was. I mostly moved passed it after she came on to me at a party. She knew I had a thing for her, and she and ‘other Alex’ have a weird half open relationship because of Alex’s asexuality and Lydia’s very much not asexuality. I ended up politely turning her down though. I wouldn’t have wanted to stop at a hookup and she and Alex are basically fused at the soul. So instead of having sweaty hair pulling sex in the laundry room we hung out on a balcony and had a drunken heart to heart. I think I made the right decision. 

She’s my closest friend at the table and a powerful demon, so I figure I can count on her. Nope. “You didn’t want to make the blood pact, remember? You thought it would “Weaken you too much”.” 

Finally there’s the most mysterious member of our group. She goes only by her online username, “PimpMasterJohannes420”. If you address her by any other name or try to shorten it she just ignores you. The others all think she’s some kind of disaffected stoner with a mild mental abnormality. I think she’s clean as a whistle and likes fucking with us. 

PMJ420 plays the wizard. Her characters are why I’m convinced she doesn’t touch drugs. Greg and I get pretty into the mechanics of the systems we use and make some pretty powerful badasses. She may act like she just stumbles into lucky character choices, but she’s the most powerful member of the group by a mile in this game. Every other one too. 

I’m not sure if she _wants_ to help me, but she definitely _can_. She shrugs, “Greg said he was taking you down tonight and if anyone helped they were going down too.” 

_*Beat*_

“Greg?” My voice is completely flat. 

“You should have listened to me!” Greg raises his voice. Not a common occurrence. 

“Greg.” I know where this is going. 

“You ruined the entire campaign!” Greg is riling himself up intentionally. 

The incident he’s referring to was in our last campaign. It had been basic sword and sorcery fare. Orcs and dragons and shit. But there were hints that something deeper was going on. They weren’t quite subtle enough hints, though. After the fifth session I was walking Lydia home, ‘other Alex’ hadn’t been able to make it in, and we put two and two together. The whole fantasy world was a simulation in a video game. This made the rest of the game ludicrously predictable. So Lydia and I quietly exploited our foreknowledge for kicks. Eventually there was a chance to kill the big bad at what should have been the half way point. But Lydia and I had put together an in character reason to attack him. So with a little rules lawyering we killed the bastard and freed everyone’s minds from the Matrix or whatever. 

Greg was livid. Apparently this campaign had been in the works for months and we blew it out of the water. I’d give Lydia most of the credit for our success. Her roleplaying to get us into position was fantastic and she did most of the other planning as well. My role was basically limited to helping figure out the plot in the first place, finding the rule exploits, and using my character as the triggerman. But Greg blamed me entirely. I guess because my lawyering was the most obvious factor in the plot. 

“Greg. It’s over.” I start pulling my things together. 

“Do you know how long I spent writing the end of it? A month! Just for the end!” Holy shit. Greg was basically whining at this point. I hadn’t expected this from him, honestly. 

“Greg. I’m done. I’m not going to ruin anything else.” My stuff is basically together. I throw most of it into a backpack and stand up. 

“I’m not sure I believe you. You’ve always made trouble in our games. But you can roll up another character for next session. Just try and tone it down for once in your life.” At least he wasn’t yelling anymore. 

“No Greg. I’m _done_ ,” I emphasize the hell out of the word,“I’m not going to ruin anything else because I’m leaving. I’m not coming back, Greg. Goodbye.” I’m the picture of tranquility as I leave the room. I’m tempted to slam the door but I’ve resolved not to show any sign of emotion until I’m safe at home. 

I stand on the doorstep of the apartment for a second thinking about the bridge I just burned. Greg hadn’t been my favorite guy in the world. He’s a pretty creative guy though, and easily the best game master I’ve played with. Until now of course. He’d broken gaming rule number one, if you have beef in game, you keep it in game. So no, I’m not sorry about parting ways with a guy who holds grudges and throws tantrums when you catch him. 

But I’m sure as hell going to miss the others. I could probably still hang with Lydia and Alex at the diner, but the weekly gaming had really been the glue holding us together. I sigh and shake my head. Greg’s place is on the first floor so it doesn’t take long to get out on to the street. 

The cold fall air nips at my exposed skin and I shiver a little. I don’t mind though. As far as I’m concerned it’s still shorts weather until I’m at real risk of hypothermia from standing still. 

It’s a long ways to my house. I usually ride along with Alex since he lives basically across the street, but I’m not interested in seeing anyone else for the moment so I start walking. Greg’s place isn’t in the best part of town. Mine isn’t either. I’d be on edge about it if I wasn’t enjoying the night so much. Our games almost never end before midnight and even leaving early meant it was well past sundown. The moon is up and nearly full. 

I feel like a predator, wandering around at night like this. The full moon, the cold air, and the darkness around me just seem to wake up something primitive in me. I want to hunt something. Kill it and eat it, maybe. I bite my lip and feel the sharp pain mix with the tingle of adrenaline running down my nerves. The stuff at game night doesn’t feel as immediate and painful as it did just a few minutes ago. 

As good as stroking my primal urges feels though, I’m still panting by the time I get to my door. Extended physical activity is my bane. Actually, just physical activity in general is my bane. So I’m happy to strip my shirt off as soon as I’m over the threshold and fling it into my desk chair. My backpack follows in turn. These Olympian feats accomplished I fall flat on my bed. My shoes are still on though. I groan into the bed as I struggle to kick them off without expending any real effort, and eventually they do slip free. Finally ready for bed I roll myself up in my comforter and pass out. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like this has happened with any of my gaming groups, which I'm glad for.


	2. Vampire Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Moderate Violence, Minor First-Aid, and Ruined Clothing

A bolt of thunder wakes me up. A storm must have blown in while I slept. Another bolt of thunder rolls through, this time preceded by a flash of lightning. Another flash lights up the room. Sure enough, another peal of thunder rattles through the building. A rapid succession of strikes light up my room like a strobe light. There’s something strange about the last one though. Not with the lightning itself, but the shadowy figure it projects onto my wall. Another flash and thunderclap. Yeah, there’s definitely someone outside my window. On the third floor. 

Am I scared of getting robbed and/or murdered? Very much so. Do I panic? Maybe a little. Do I concoct a risky but daring plan to dispatch this new threat? Of course I do. Do I get a little silly because humor suppresses the fear? Of course not, I have my dignity. 

My plan involves my secret weapon. Not that secret though, I keep it displayed on my nightstand. Purchased from a ren faire, for a king’s ransom, I am the proud owner of a large fantasy themed dagger. A kickass blade, forged in eastern lands by sweatshop workers, it has carried me through countless battles. I don’t think you can count zero anyways. Math is not my strong suit. 

I hear my window sliding open, why would I lock a third story window, as I reach for my weapon. Quickly I grab it and snap my hand back under my pillow. A hooded stranger awkwardly squeezes into my inner sanctum. I feign slumber as best I can while observing my foe. Slowly they approach my bed. They must be after my life then, good thing I’ve got my trusty blade. ‘ _Miquilis_ ’ I decide to call it. I’m pretty sure it means murderer in elvish. 

As the intruder nears my place of rest they raise their arm, reaching out for me. My plan is dangerous. Striking range for me is also striking range for them. But I have the element of surprise on my side. “ _Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt_ .” A great man once said. So when the hooded shadow is finally near enough to touch me, trying quietly to push my blanket aside, I strike. 

I lunge forward with a shout, the force of my kiai throwing my foe off balance, and plunge the knife into their chest with both hands. It sinks in to the hilt. I’m shocked. I was fully expecting the crap stainless steel to fail spectacularly, leaving me to get murdered horribly. But as I pull back the figure twists away and, sure enough, the crap stainless steel breaks off at the hilt. Oh well. Embedding six inches of knife in your opponent’s torso is usually a victory by anyone’s standards. I’m already planning my celebratory pint of vodka and 911 call when another flash of light illuminates the face of my would-be killer. 

It’s some girl in a hoodie and jeans. Oh. It’s a lot harder to feel good about killing someone when they have a face. This wasn’t some horrible creature of the night sneaking into my room to swallow my soul. This is a human being with feelings and stuff, and pretty soon she’s going to be a slowly cooling corpse on my apartment floor. 

Hang on, actually. She doesn’t seem to be doing the corpse thing very quickly. Or struggling much at all, in fact. Yeah, it had only been a few seconds, but most people would be screaming, or trying to suck air into a punctured lung, or something. But suddenly she’s right in front of me, her hand squeezing my collar bone. With something between a scream and a roar she lifts me bodily, spins around like I’m not even there, and runs me toward the nearest wall. 

I hit the doorframe. I hit the doorframe _hard_. For a second or two my vision is a field of stars. Her fingers are still wrapped around the base of my throat, pinning me to the wall a full foot off the ground. I flail around, trying in vain to slip free. All I accomplish is smacking the light switch and illuminating the scene. Not helpful, but at least I can get a good look at my attacker. 

It’s definitely a girl. Her hoodie and jeans are pretty loose so it’s a little hard to tell, but the features are there. Her face helps too. It’s a pretty face. Prominent cheekbones, small nose with a very slight turn up at the end, striking lips. She’s pale as death though, contrasting her hair. I can’t tell how long it is since it’s mostly stuffed back down the hoodie. It’s a nice color, kind of a burnt ochre. She’s downright _cute_. Which is why I feel a little bad about the slowly expanding pool of blood soaked into the front of her hoodie. Judging by the location I hadn’t just stabbed her in the chest, I’d pounded a half-foot knife straight through her _sternum_. Didn’t seem to be slowing her down though. I’d at least be winded. 

I look back up to meet her eyes, something I’d avoided doing when I first looked her over. They’re cute too. As well as the bluest I’ve ever seen. Like, liquid ozone blue. There’s something strange about them though. The way they look like she’s about to cry. They way they’re staring at me but also wavering slightly. I can feel her shaking, the little spasms traveling up her arm and into my neck. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she's scared. Terrified even. I open my mouth to say something but she starts at the sudden motion and flings me to the side. 

I hit the head of my bed with an audible cracking sound. I feel something snap as I land. Still disoriented I check behind me. The headboard is fine. Solid as a rock. I check my limbs. They all seem good except for my left arm. That one is a bit crooked. The front half of my forearm is dangling at a right angle compared to the rear half, in fact. Not good. My body decides that it’s had about enough of this and drops into shock. My mind ratifies the decision and joins in. So I just sit there gaping at a broken arm while super girl does god knows what. 

I’m not really equipped to measure the passage of time right now, but at some point a pale hand waves in front of my face. Getting no response it pulls back and replaced by a pair of pretty blue eyes. The eyes are attached to a face, as eyes do. The face has a pretty mouth. The pretty mouth is moving. 

“Hey. Hey knife maniac. Are you okay?” Her eyes still look a little afraid. But she also seems concerned about something. 

I shake my head ‘no’. 

“Okay. Well. You’re still sitting up. That’s good. You seem concussed. So that’s _not_ good. I can’t put a bandaid on your brain though. So I’m gonna set that arm of yours instead. Do you trust me?” I like her voice, it’s soothing. It sounds worried though. 

I didn’t hit my head so hard I lost my memory though. Do I trust her? I shake my head ‘no’ again. 

“Too bad.” The eyes and face and mouth disappear. 

I hear shuffling and rustling in the rest of my apartment. My closet door opens and closes. I hear a loud snap. None of this seems pressing enough to look away from my arm though. I can’t help but think I should be feeling pain right now. But no, I’m pretty much numb. 

The eyes are back. The mouth moves again. “Okay champ. You’re a real trooper. I’m going to set the bones in your arm and splint it. That means moving it though. You’re probably in shock right now but that’s going to go away real fast once bits of you start moving around.” 

Just having to interpret language is going a long way to getting my mind moving again. She’s saying it’s going to hurt. I mumble, “Pain?” 

For a second the eyes, her eyes, look relieved. She speaks again, “You’re talking. Talking is good. Yes. Pain. Lots of pain. I can give you something for it though.” 

She can stop the pain? I’m still mumbly, “What?” 

She frowns, “You won’t like it if I tell you. You’ll like the pain less though, I promise. All you need to do is pick. Pain or less pain?” 

My brain is catching up. Enough to not like hearing it won’t like something. It’s also caught up enough to be having an idea of just how much pain the ‘pain’ option was going to cause. At full capacity I probably would have been more inclined to suffer the known, and temporary, pain over some unknown method of pain dampening offered by a stranger who broke into my house and then broke my arm. 

“Less pain, please,” I whisper. 

“Thought so. This will be a little weird, but I need you to hold still so I can fix your arm.” She said, leaning forward slowly. 

Her face slips beneath my field of vision. All I can see is the top of her hood. I feel something on my neck. With a mental jolt I realize it’s her lips. She’s pressing against my skin, lips spreading. Then I feel a prick and my world goes fuzzy. My neck feels so good. Everything feels so good. It spreads across my body like a jolt of electricity. It’s just shy of rapturous. It doesn’t just feel good though, it feels… sexy good. I’m too absorbed in the all over sensation to notice my pants tightening up a bit. It ends all too soon. She pulls away quickly and as the last few drops of ecstasy drip from my mind I feel her yank my arm straight and orient the bones. It still hurts. It hurts a lot. I’m suddenly thankful I took the ‘less pain’ option, and not just because it felt so good. 

“There you go. That should last you until you can get to a hospital. I’d take you, but I’m covered in my own blood and the sun’s almost up. You going to be all right?” The fear is gone from her eyes now. She actually seems pretty confident now. I wonder what changed. 

I look at my arm. The splint appears to be several pieces of my broom’s handle wrapped in what looks suspiciously like strips of my sheet. She must have done that while I was thinking about how bad the setting had hurt. 

“I think so. I think I’ll be fine.” I answer, my voice shaking a little. 

“Good. You did fine. Very brave. Just one last thing.” She says. She sounds distracted. 

I look over and she has my phone to her ear. “Hi! Is this Alex?” 

The sound of someone else talking, then her voice again, “Sorry to wake you, your friend had a bad spill. I did some basic first aid but he hit his head pretty hard. He needs someone to stay and keep him from falling asleep. Maybe take him to the hospital.” 

Very loud voice from the phone, almost shouting. She’s still calm though, “I’ll let him know. I have to get going but he should still be alive when you get here. Just smack him awake if he’s passed out.” 

She ends the call and throws the phone down next to me. “Your friend is on the way.” She closes the window and walks toward the door. “I left your knife blade in the sink, might want to clean that up when you get back.” She opens the door and starts to leave but stops and looks at me one more time. “Please don’t tell anyone about me. I’ll… I’ll be in big trouble. Dangerous trouble. If anyone finds out.” There’s the fear again, this time in her voice. “Bye knife maniac.” 

The door closes with a soft click. I’m alone for the moment. What the hell just happened? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also not based on real life.


	3. The Sharpest Knives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Brief But Graphic Torture, Moderate Violence, Creepy Tween

My arm aches. My back too. Also my head, my head is throbbing. It has not been a good night. I’m not dead though. There were a few points where I definitely wasn’t sure I was going to see morning. The sun hasn’t risen though, so I guess there’s still time. Alex will probably run us into something and kill us both. Dude drives like he wants to die sometimes. 

When the door opens it’s not Alex. It’s ‘other Alex’. That made sense, the strange girl had probably just hit the first person in my contacts list. Alex is second down. 

“Hey asshole. Do you know what time it is? I-“ She stops when she sees me, “Christ dude, what happened?” 

“I fell down the stairs.” I lie. 

“What, all of them? You look like you fell off the building.” She looks a little shocked. 

“I feel like I fell off a building.” I say, hoping that will deflect the line of questioning. It wasn’t entirely a lie, either. 

“Well whoever that was on the phone is right. It’s hospital time for you.” She comes over and starts helping me off the bed. She’s short and a little stocky, perfect for leaning on when you’re a bit wobbly. 

“Who was that, by the way?” She asks as I struggle to make it through the door without letting go of her. 

“I don’t know. Some girl. She heard me hit the landing and came to investigate.” Lies. “Luckily she was some kind of first aid savant.” 

“Was she cute? Did you get her number?” She’s either trying purely to annoy me, or she noticed me wince every time a sharp step jolted my body and is trying to distract me. With her it can be hard to tell. 

“I kind of had other things on my mind than getting her number. Or checking her out, for that matter!” I feign indignity at her inquiry. “But yes. She was cute.” 

“Well maybe you’ll see her again when she doesn’t have to run off somewhere.” I’m not sure how enthusiastic I am about that idea. 

“Yeah… maybe.” I’m pretty sure the strange girl won’t be making any more appearances. 

I’m at the end of the hall, so it takes time to get to the stairs at our slowed pace. I don’t think a flight of stairs has ever looked so daunting to me, and there’s going to be more than one. Alex must have caught me staring because she asks, “Want a piggy back ride?” 

Now, this sounds like a bad idea for two very important reasons. One, while I don’t doubt her ability to carry my weight I’m pretty sure she’s not going to act as much of a shock absorber. Two, Alex maybe a little stocky but her weight seems intentionally distributed to make you worry about being pressed too close against her. I decline her offer. 

The trip to the ground floor is better than I feared. It takes a while, but as long as I step softly it only hurts a little. Next, the lobby and front door pass without incident. Out front is Alex’s car, idling with a panicked looking Lydia in the passenger seat. When she sees us her hand flies to her mouth and her panicked look intensifies. 

Alex lets go of me and holds her hand out, “Hey, give me your keys. I’ll watch your place while Lydia takes you to the E.R.” 

I hand her my keys and she walks back toward the building. Without looking she fires off a casual parting comment, “I bet if you play your cards right she’ll play naughty nurse with you.” 

That’s such an Alex thing to say. She loves to tease us, especially me, about the torch I used to carry for Lydia. She seems convinced we’re destined for some burning, illicit love affair. I used to think she joked about it because she was nervous or jealous or something. Once I got to know her, though, I realized that wasn’t her style. Now I think she’s waiting and hoping for it to happen, just for the entertainment value. Alex is that kind of person. 

Seeing Alex head back into the building Lydia hops out of the car runs to meet me. I can tell she’s about to start rattling off questions, but I’ve just noticed I never put on a shirt, “In the car please. It’s freezing out here.” 

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Hang on, I’ll help you into the car.” She supports me a little as I slide into the passenger seat. “Alex offered to watch your place, right?” 

“Yeah.” I swear Lydia can read Alex’s mind. 

The car is a lot warmer than outside. I’m not usually happy about artificially heated air, but it beat topless in the elements by a mile. Lydia slides into the driver’s seat and pulls away from the curb. Focusing on driving distracts her a little but her face is still painted with worry. 

“You look terrible, what happened?” She asks, sneaking a sideways glance at me. 

“I fell down the stairs.” Lying to Alex stung. Lying to Lydia hurts. 

“What, all of them? You look like you got hit by a truck.” She says without looking. 

“Yeah, it was coming up as I was rolling down.” Hopefully some humor will convince her I’m not about to keel over any time soon. 

“I hope Alex didn’t give you a hard time. She cares, but you know how she is about ‘feely crap’.” She steals another glance at me, but I’m sitting up in my seat just fine. 

“Yeah. She said I should talk you into playing naughty nurse with me after the docs have their way.” I watch the streetlights fly by. 

“Cute,” Lydia snorts derisively, “Who was the girl that called Alex? Did you already have a naughty nurse around tonight?” 

“Pft, yeah right.” It occurs to me though, maybe the strange girl _had_ been a nurse. That would explain the injury assessment and bone setting. “It was just some girl. She heard me fall and knew some first aid.” 

“Did you get her number?” In contrast to Alex, Lydia is clearly genuinely curious. Why she thinks there’s a possibility I got a number is not clear to me. 

“Nope. I think I put her off with the swearing when she set my arm bones. I got pretty creative.” Second time I’d heard that question tonight. “Alex asked me that too. Do you guys know something I don’t?” 

“Not at all. What I do know is that Alex and I have a betting pool that revolves around your love life. She’s been pretty optimistic about your chances and it’s looking like that’s going to cost her.” Lydia grins wolfishly at the prospect. When they aren’t the mushiest, most vomit inducing soulmates in the world Alex and Lydia can be pretty competitive. 

“But not you. You think I’m destined for a life of rarely impinged chastity.” I won’t lie. I’m a _little_ offended. 

“You hang out with, like, three girls. You don’t know her Pimpness, Alex doesn’t ‘go’ for anyone, let alone boys, and, for the purposes of the pool, I don’t count. Not that you’ve shown any renewed interest in me regardless. So from where I’m sitting, the odds are stacked against you.” She’s not completely off base. 

I have a thought. “Does Alex count?” 

She casts an appraising glance at me, “I suppose so. We were pretty sure you don’t swing that way though.” 

Even if I were a little more bisexually inclined, Alex is definitely not my type. “No, your Alex. Did you specifically rule that she didn’t count?” 

Lydia laughs, “No, dummy. Why would we even-“ Her face freezes. “You don’t think…?” 

“We both know she can be _very_ competitive,” if the devil ever needs an advocate my rates are competitive, “but you know her better than I do.” 

“No. She wouldn’t. Almost certainly not.” Lydia glares daggers at me. “ _You_ wouldn’t.” 

It’s my turn to laugh, “I’d be laughing too hard for her to even get my clothes off.” 

We pull up at the emergency room entrance at the hospital. 

“Can you make it while I park the car?” Seriousness creeps back into her voice. 

I open the door and gingerly step out. “I’m good. Have fun.” 

True to my word I make it into the emergency room without trouble. The visit sucks. The docs take a few x-rays and decide my bones weren’t set _quite_ well enough. Plus there could stand to be some staples holding things together in there. So into the O.R. we go. Since I got a bonk to the noggin they can’t put me under general anesthesia. They numb the arm up good, set it, slam a couple bolts in before stitching everything back up, and pat themselves on the back. No one pats me on the back because of the bruising. 

The rest of the stay is basically just nurses pointing out all the various damage I need to keep an eye on with lots of visual aids, like x-rays, and photos. Basically, I’m not supposed to do anything for about a week. Then I just need to be careful for a few months, with the arm especially, and I’m in the clear. Probably. 

When I finally get back to the waiting room both Alex and Lydia are asleep on each other. I wander over and nudge them awake. Alex is the first to reach conversational wakefulness. “Hey buddy. How’d it go?” 

I try my best to look nervous, “They said the cancer is gone but… Alex… I’m pregnant. The baby is yours.” 

Lydia cracks up laughing so hard she rolls off Alex onto the floor and curls up. 

I look down at her in mock disapproval. “Seriously though. I should be fine with some bed rest and a lot of waiting for bones to knit.” 

“Good to hear it,” she says, helping her girlfriend stand up from her floor bound position, “let’s get you and giggles here to your respective beds.” 

The ride home is quiet and even when we arrive goodbyes are brief. The painkillers the doctors gave me are still in full effect, so the climb up to my room is completely bearable. It’s been a long night, and day. The sun is setting already. How long had Alex and Lydia been waiting for me? 

I’m glad to finally be home. The familiar smells of my apartment greet me as I enter. It’s a lot colder than it should be. Fresh air blends in with the usual scents. My blinds are closed and flapping in the breeze blowing from the open window. Alex must not have closed the window. Or maybe she had, there’s a pile of glass on the floor just underneath it. 

I sigh. I need to call the landlord about this, he won’t be happy. Had someone _else_ broken in while I was gone? Nothing else looks out of place or missing. I don’t remember grabbing my phone, so it’s probably still on the bed where the strange girl had tossed it before leaving. I turn to flop on my bed and feel around for it but it already seems to be occupied. 

What. 

Sure enough, there’s someone laying sprawled out on my bed. Completely unmoving. I lean down to shake them. No response. They aren’t very big, so I roll them over. It’s a girl. Another girl has broken into my apartment and is now laying on my bed. This one’s younger though, eleven, maybe twelve. She’s also not breathing. I check for a pulse. None to be found. Stone cold too. My phone’s next to her though so I grab that. 

I think about calling someone. An ambulance, the police, Alex again. None of those options really appeal at the moment. Besides, if I’m going to report a corpse I should probably clean the bloody knife out of my sink. I go to check on that. 

No blood, no knife. Great. Fuck it. I sit on the couch and check my voicemail. 

Alex, last night, “ _Hey man. Sorry about what happened last night. If you want to talk about it hit me up and we can hang at the diner. Later._ ” 

Greg, last night, “ _Message deleted._ ” 

Lydia, last night, “ _I’m so sorry about last night! If we had known what Greg was up to we wouldn’t have gone along. He made it sound like it was for an important plot thing. I don’t blame you for leaving like that. I’m here if you want to talk. Oh! After you left PimpMaster tore Greg a new one. He was close to crying by the end. We were all pretty shocked. Anyways, like I said, I’m here if you need someone._ ” 

Greg, this morning, “ _Message deleted._ ” 

Unknown number, caller I.D. says _Lauren_ , this morning, “ _Hey Liz, it’s PimpMasterrrr, it’s Lauren. Sorry about that fuckpipe Greg, I reamed him good for you. Don’t worry, it’s on the house. Anyways, I’m setting up a game of my own next week. I don’t know what kind of mood you’ll be in by then, but you’re invited. I’ll text the details once everything’s ready. Have a good one._ ” 

Lauren? Kind of mundane for such a mysterious person. Sounds like I owe her one. It’s nice to hear from the others too. I guess it really was just Greg. Fuck Greg. 

It’s gotten pretty dark. Where does the time go? I don’t mind though. Fall and winter’s shortened days are wonderful as far as I’m concerned. But I still have a corpse in my bed. I slip my phone into my pocket and look back up, right into a toothy grin. 

It’s the dead girl. Apparently she got better, because now she’s about six inches from my face, smiling like Christmas came early. I’m shocked stupid by this. In a daze I examine her teeth with a sort of morbid fascination. They’re perfectly aligned, polished white. Out of place though are her canines. They’re pretty long. They look like fangs. 

The smile speaks, “Hey dumbass. Eyes up here.” 

I look up and into the eyes of a demon. They’re perfectly normal on the surface, of course. A ruddy brown color. But a kind of primeval malice lurks behind them. I’m suddenly very uncomfortable being this close to her. I back up. She lets me. Zoomed out a little I can take in the rest of her. 

A mess of dirty blonde hair pokes out from under a dingy baseball cap. Her face is sharp, but softened by her youth. Her smile is all teeth and malice. She might be happy, but it’s not a nice happy. She’s short and a bit scrawny, but there’s a hint of musculature just beneath the surface. Scrappy, I guess, is how I would describe her. She’s wearing a faded pair of cargo shorts and her loose t-shirt proudly declares that she fucks on the first date. 

I was worried I would die last night, tonight I’m pretty sure of it. 

So I mouth off. Because hey, if you’re gonna go out, go out with last words you can be proud of. “If you’re here to rob me, take whatever you want. I’m out of knives since last night.” 

Her eyes narrow. “Oh? What happened to the last one?” 

“Lost it in the last person to break in here. Oops.” I’m getting less confident in this plan. As much of a plan as running my mouth is, anyways. 

Her eyes narrow further and she fidgets with something behind her back. “So this _is_ the place.” 

“What place?” I ask, suddenly a lot less concerned with being an asshole. 

“The place my little girl got hurt.” I didn’t think that smile could split any wider. Boy was I wrong. 

I am completely, utterly, one hundred percent fucked. I can feel it. 

I start to raise my hands in protest, “Hey. That was just a misund-“ 

I am rudely interrupted by her tacking my wrist to my leg with something long and sharp she pulls from behind her back. I yell in pain, just a little, and stare in disbelief at my, now profusely bleeding, arm and leg. It’s my goddamn knife, sans handle. My _goddamn knife_ is now pinning my wrist to my leg. 

“W-what?” I enquire eloquently. 

“My little girl. My precious childe. You _hurt_ her.” She’s seething with barely contained rage. 

I try to say something else. Probably ask another stupid question. But she’s done chatting. She grabs my not bleeding arm by the cast and flips me around, pressing me into the ground at her feet. The effects of this maneuver are twofold. First, my cast cracks a little. This hurts. Second, my other arm is ripped free of my leg, taking the knife blade with it. This is spectacularly painful. 

“You hurt my things, I break yours.” Her voice sends chills down my spine. 

She has my broken arm twisted back behind me, I can hear the cast quietly cracking. She twists hard. The cast snaps. I scream. She keeps going though. I can feel the bolts in my bones break free, separating them for a second time. The bolts and bones are ripping through my muscles slowly. My scream turns into a shrill squeak. She shifts her grip up my arm to work on new territory. With a twist and a yank she pops my elbow free, tearing cartilage and ripping muscle. I’m pretty quiet now, I’m beyond making noise. She shifts her grip again, moving to my upper arm. She dislocates that too. But she’s not done with my arm yet. She steps on it, pinning it against my back. Using her foot for leverage she snaps my upper arm with enough pressure to force a bone out through my skin. 

I’m basically catatonic. Drooling into a puddle on the floor. In a final assault she grabs my mutilated arm at both ends and proceeds to grind the shattered mess of bone and flesh together for a few seconds. The sensation of grinding and tearing is beyond even the concept of pain. It transcends it. If she goes any further it might just cross infinity, wrap around, and become pleasure. But finally, mercifully, she lets me go. She steps over me and turns. I can feel her looking down at me. 

“I was going to kill you. But I think watching you suffer for a while will be more entertaining. Ciao.” She walks away. I hear the door open and close. I’m alone. Alone and in pieces. 

It’s at least an hour, by my reckoning, before I can stand to move at all. When I do my arm drags along behind me like a tube of meat. The feeling is not particularly pleasant. But after a grueling three foot crawl I make it to my goal. My phone. 

Working a phone with a knife blade stabbed through your wrist sucks. My last two fingers won’t even move, I think something important got cut. My touchscreen is not playing well with the blood either. But I manage to get my contacts open and hit the first name. That ringing sound is like a heavenly chorus to me, and when Alex answers I almost cry tears of joy. The tears of pain are in the way, though. 

“This had better be another emergency. We were just about to start our movie marathon.” Alex sounds irritated. I don’t really care. 

“Hey Alex,“ I rasp out between sobbing gasps of air, “I fell down those damn stairs again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The broken window sucks but I think the landlord is more likely to lose his shit over the blood in the carpet.


	4. Our Lady of Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Suffering, Hospital Drama, Microwaving Corndogs, and Drug and Alcohol Abuse

I must have passed out from the pain because Alex and Lydia are now pounding on, and shouting through, my door despite my having called only a few seconds ago. I consider shouting from my position on the floor but I doubt they would hear me over themselves. I opt to call Alex’s phone again. The redial function is pretty easy and blood is no longer running down my hand. 

“I swear to god Liz, you’d better not be dying in there. I’m not gonna stand out here listening to your last words through a phone!” Alex rarely answers her phone with a proper greeting. 

“Chill out. I’m a little woozy, but the bleeding has slowed down a lot so I’m probably good for a ride back to the E.R.” I’m trying to be reassuring. Not that it helps. 

“Bleeding? What Bleeding? Answer the door you fuck. We can’t get you to the E.R. if we can’t get you out of your place.” I wish she would stop panicking. Alex not making jokes is a lot scarier than the puddle of blood I’m relaxing in. 

“Okay. Alex. I can’t move right now. So what I need you to do is hand the phone to Lydia and run to go get the landlord. I never changed the locks so he should have a copy of the key. Hurry.” I’m a little upset that I have to be the calm one despite having several holes in me. 

Alex doesn’t even acknowledge me, I just hear the phone being passed and the sound of running footsteps. Lydia’s voice comes through, “H-hey, are you okay in there? Alex j-just shoved the phone at me and took off running.” 

Lydia is stammering a little, but she sounds a lot calmer than Alex did. I find this to be an improvement. “I told her to get the landlord to unlock the door. I’m a little indisposed right now.” 

“O-okay. But are you _okay_?” She drags out the ‘okay’ like I’m having trouble understanding. 

“In a word, no. I’m decidedly not okay. I didn’t want to say anything to Alex but I need to be _at_ the hospital right now. I have no idea how bad the damage is.” The pain is still excruciating. Necessity is the only thing holding me together. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. The thought of being moved at all is horrifying. 

“Damage? Liz, what happened? You didn’t fall down any stairs in there.” Lydia’s stammer is gone. She’s switched to her stern mom voice. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Well, _you_ might. Because you’re a wonderful, trusting human being who brightens the darkness with your very existence. But I’d still rather not explain it now, face down in a pool of my own blood and struggling to stay awake.” If this goes on much longer I’m going to start rambling just to keep distracted. 

Luckily I can hear footsteps at the door again and, a second later, the sound of a key in my lock. Wait. I had heard the strange girl in the baseball cap _leave_ through the door. Had she really locked it before closing it on the way out? She had thought to take that extra little step just to prolong my pain. I’m amazed. 

I hear the door open behind me, giving everyone a great rear view of me. I’m sure the prior night’s bruises aren’t great to look at, but the ensuing gasps probably have more to do with my arm. I can’t see it myself, but I can feel it. I know for a fact there’s a bone still protruding through my flesh. I bet that’s what did it. The slowly coagulating blood probably helped too. 

“Liz.” Lydia is the first one to speak. She sounds a little shell shocked. “Liz. You needed to call nine one one. Not us.” 

“Christ almighty.” My landlord contributes. 

“Hello, nine one one?” Alex appears to have jumped straight to calling emergency services. Despite this seemingly composed action her voice sounds one step below hysterical. “My friend is fucked up, can you send an ambulance?” 

“I’m fine guys, I just need some help getting to the car.” I try to wave off their concern with my working arm. This was the wrong move. 

“Liz. Is that a knife in your arm?” Lydia again. “Liz. Why is there a knife in your arm, Liz?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Landlord. 

“Yeah, his arm looks like someone backed a semi over it. The other one has a knife in it. You heard me, a knife. No I don’t know why there’s a knife in his arm. GODDAMMIT JUST SEND SOMEONE TO COME TAKE IT OUT!” Alex is still chatting with the dispatcher. 

I continue trying to wave them down, accidentally twisting the knife blade in the process. Blood starts trickling out in spurts. Must have nicked something important. I hear a loud thump behind me. 

“I can hear sirens Liz. I think the emergency services are almost here. Please stop trying to kill yourself before they can get here.” Liz reprimands me, still using her mom voice. 

No comment from the landlord this time. 

“What was that? The landlord just fainted, not important. My friend is now leaking blood all over the place. That seems important. Yeah, from the knife in his wrist. No, we didn’t try to remove it, he was waving it at us. Don’t worry he stopped once the bleeding started.” Alex is still live casting my condition to the dispatcher. 

I’m getting a little dizzy. Which is weird because I swear I’m not losing blood _that_ fast. But I guess I don’t know how much is actually left. It occurs to me that I might have bled a lot internally. I have no idea what my arm looks like. 

The EMTs finally make the scene. By this point I’m halfway blacked out so all I really notice is the new layer of hell that is being moved to the stretcher. I don’t even make it down the first flight of stairs before the darkness finally closes in. 

I wake up a little in the ambulance. The EMTs engage me, trying to keep me awake. It works for the most part. I laugh a lot, I hope they’re telling jokes. 

I’m not sure when I got to the hospital but someone is fiddling with something over my face. Whatever it is presses against me and I hear a hiss. Everything fades to black. 

I wake up feeling better. A lot better. My arm still hurts a little, but everything else is pretty chill. I’m in a hospital bed. There’s a nurse beside me adjusting my arm. I crane my neck to see a little better. I look like a cyborg. My forearm is running through a few metal rings held in place by a series of rods. Everything else is pretty much trapped in a series of braces and casts. I should probably be glad I can’t see what it looks like underneath. 

“Hey Liz, glad to see you moving.” I start a little and notice Lydia and Alex sitting on the other side of the room. Alex looks to be dozing on Lydia’s shoulder. 

“Hey. Thanks for coming to the rescue.” I keep quiet, hoping not to disturb Alex. “Is she okay?” 

Lydia smiles, “Who, Alex? She’s fine. Just a little worn out from yelling at everyone. I swear the nurses were about a minute away from sedating her themselves.” 

I smile at that. Lydia’s voice seems to have roused Alex from her light slumber. 

I turn to her. “Hey sleepy head. I’m all in one piece again. I think.” 

She frowns at me, “I don’t know what kinky shit you’ve been getting up to, but it needs to stop. If I have to come pick you up in the middle of the night again I’m just going to put you out of your misery myself.” 

I laugh at that. It’s so good to hear Alex joking again. “Thanks for coming by so quickly. I had no idea if I was going to live or not.” 

They look at each other for a second, then back to me. Lydia says, “The doctor said you would have made it easy if you hadn’t nicked an artery waving your hand around like a jackass.” 

Oh. Well. The past is the past. 

“So. Are you going to tell us what happened?” Alex is staring at me intently. 

“A little girl broke into my apartment, played dead on my bed until I was distracted, snuck up to me, stabbed me, flipped me over, put me in a hold, and systematically destroyed my arm from the bottom up.” I’m serious, of course. I can have a pretty deadpan delivery when it comes to jokes though. So the angry look on Alex’s face is pretty understandable. 

“Goddammit Liz, this isn’t funny.” We’re back to serious Alex, not completely serious though. “Besides. If you’re going to just make shit up why not say you got attacked by ninjas or lost an arm wrestling match to Cthulhu or something?” 

I look at Lydia. She’s staring at the wall opposite her and frowning slightly. 

“It is a little farfetched, Liz.” She says quietly. 

“Hey, I tell it like it is. You guys know that.” I shrug. Then I wince because shrugging was a bad idea. 

Alex harrumphs and storms out of the room without a word. Lydia studies me intently. 

“Do you know who she was? The girl.” She asks. 

“You believe me?” I’m a little incredulous. 

Lydia shakes her head slightly, then nods. “A little.” She chuckles softly, “If you were lying you would have made a reference to something stupid. Besides. I’m a wonderful, trusting human being.” 

Yes. Yes she is. But I’m still going to lie to her, a little, by omission mostly. “No, I have no idea who she was.” I do know one thing though. She was connected to the first girl that broke into my apartment. The one I attempted to brutally murder. 

“I guess you wouldn’t, would you.” Lydia drifts into thought and I take a moment to admire her. 

Lydia is almost the opposite of Alex. Tall and lithe instead of short and stocky. Thin, almost ephemeral, compared to Alex’s generous proportions. Black hair, not blonde. Etc… 

In our games she always refused to play elves, but I swear she’s the closest you can get to elven beauty in the real world. It’s been a long time since I looked this closely at her and with the way she’s responded to the troubles of the last couple of nights I’m forced to remember why I liked her so much in the past. 

“It’s been a while since you looked at me like that, Liz.” Lydia is smiling at me mischievously. 

Shit. She caught me. “Like what?” My eyes flick around the room. Looking anywhere but at her. 

“Pining, sweetie. You used to do it all the time when you thought I wasn’t looking.” I suddenly miss bubbly Lydia. It’s been a few days, but it feels like forever. Normally she’s excited about something, whatever the flavor of the week is. She’ll start babbling about it if you leave an opening, and get so excited if you show any interest of your own in the subject. Right now I’m stuck with spider Lydia. Spider Lydia is venomous and weaves webs out of razor wire. 

“I am not, and have not ever been, ‘pining’ for you. I simply find you an admirable person and endeavor to give you the attention you deserve.” My faux indignity does little to disguise my embarrassment. 

Lydia makes a dismissive noise. “Well you better not be ‘admiring’ me when Alex gets back. You know how she is. If she detects a modicum of renewed interest from you she’ll lock us both in a bedroom with a webcam and withhold food until we put on a show.” 

I laugh, “She’s not _that_ bad. She’ll try to talk you into giving head in the hospital bathroom or something though. Even if you don’t count for the bet.” 

“Remember how you used to think she was joking?” Lydia asks, giggling at the expense of my past self. 

I glare at her. “In my defense, it can be pretty hard to tell if she’s serious.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she’s almost as bad as you in that regard.” 

Alex busts back in. “If you two _comedians_ are done with your routine we should get going.” She grabs Lydia and tries to hustle her out the door. “We’ll be back for you this evening, the docs want to watch you for a while. Oh and, if you feel like actually explaining something for once, feel free to ring me.” 

Alex marches out without looking at me. Lydia lets herself be dragged away, but leans through the door at the last second and blows me a kiss. Spider Lydia. 

The day is a lot of boring resting. The only high point is when a nurse comes in to refresh my painkillers. That part is awesome. The low point is every time I get an itch on my arm. That is literally the worst. But the hours pass and eventually, around sundown, Alex shows up. 

It’s regular Alex, not ‘other Alex’. This is a bit of a surprise. Apparently ‘other Alex’ and Lydia got roped into other plans and had called him to pick me up. He’s just gotten off a double, possibly triple, shift so he isn’t very conversational. That suits me fine. We cruise back to my place at a nice, relaxed, and only mildly suicidal, pace. I’m a little relieved when it’s time to exchange farewells watch him peel away. That boy is going to end up dead someday. 

When I finally reach my door I’m ecstatic. I can’t wait to down some painkillers, curl up in my own bed, and drift away. I open the door. A cold burst of outside air hits me, bringing the smell of antiseptic and blood with it. Oh yeah. My life sucks now. 

I pop the painkillers anyways. Maybe a little more than the instructions on the bottle say. The instructions also say to take with food or risk severe nausea. Fuck. I microwave a couple corndogs and sit down at my computer. After two consecutive break-ins I’m a little leery of sitting with my back to the window. But fuck it. Porno. I manage to type ‘pornh’ before I realize that, while my right _hand_ is mostly functional, my _wrist_ is fucked for a while. Life is suffering. I switch to a nice, slow strategy game. 

I’m only a dozen turns in when I feel something in the air. It’s been blowing in through the window pretty steadily, but for a second it stills. Yeah, the wind might have shifted, but I’ve had my home raided and my arm broken twice in two nights. I spin around. A pair of bright blue eyes are looking at me from under a hood. I give up on the world and just stare dumbly at the girl standing in front of me. 

“Hey knife maniac. Please don’t stab me again.” The corners of her mouth turn up a little. I think it’s supposed to be a joke. 

She waits for some kind of signal from me but I just keep staring. I am adamant about not accepting the reality of this. She tries again, “I… I heard Cassie paid you a visit. I’m glad you’re still alive. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if she had… If she’d… Because of me.” 

Her eyes have dropped from me to the floor. The first time I met her she survived a fatal stabbing and manhandled me like I was a child. Now she’s too shy to look at me. It’s too much. I have to ask something. Anything. Just to get a grip on this. 

“Cassie? A little girl named Cassie tore me apart?” Mind blown. 

Her eyes dart to my cyborg arm and widen for an instant before she drops them again. “Yeah. I wouldn’t call her a ‘little girl’ though. Small, yeah. Girl, true. But she’s not what she looks like, you know?” 

“I have an inkling.” I say, understating the situation for effect. 

Somehow the girl manages to look even more dejected. “I tried to hide what happened from her. She can be… persuasive though. When she found out she flipped her shit and made a beeline here. You were there for the rest, I guess. She’s super protective of me.” 

“Yeah. She said you were her kid or something. I assume that wasn’t literally true.” I stand up and wander toward the kitchen. “Want some water? Juice? Soda?” 

She looks up at me, a little surprised. “Uh, no thanks. I don’t dri- I’m not thirsty.” 

I think about getting some water. Instead I pull a bottle out of the freezer and fill a mug with vodka. I saw a warning on the back of the painkillers about not doing the drugs and alcohol thing. But I’m a rebel, man. I don’t need a bunch of warnings from namby pamby doctors telling me how to live my life. Or risk it. I need the kick to handle the bullshit that is now happening to me. 

“That’s a lot to drink. Are you okay?” Now mystery girls who break into my apartment are questioning my life choices. This shit is why I drink, I decide right now. I take a swig of the vodka. It’s not good vodka. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m awesome. I have to ask though. Is there something I can help you with?” I drink some more vodka. By the time she can phrase a request I may just be drunk enough to decide to help. 

She looks away and crosses her arm across her chest to rub the other one nervously. “No. But I think I can help you.” 

Drink. Wobble. Question. “Help me? Why would you want to help me? The first time we met I embedded a foreign object in you. Admittedly you broke and then treated my arm. Which I want to be stated on the record as still being confused about. I don’t think that makes us even.” 

She looks back at me. She still fidgeting with her arm but there’s a new set to her eyes. “No we aren’t ‘even’. Cassie messed you up because I screwed up and got caught by you. Besides, I think you’d feel a lot more positive about that stabbing if you knew why I was really there.” 

Drink. Wobble. Exclamation. “You really were here to kill me! I knew it! This was inevitable after I… Actually I’m drawing a blank. Why were you going to kill me?” 

She starts to roll her eyes but switches to a look of concern. “I wasn’t here to kill you, I… are you sure you’re okay?” 

I decide I should probably stop drinking. This conversation is getting hard to follow. I set the mug down on the counter. It drops straight to the floor and shatters because the nearest counter is about four feet away. Yeah, I need to stop drinking. 

My speech is a little slurred. A little a lot. “Hey. I told you I’m cool. The painkillers are just making me a little sleepy is all.” 

“The what!?” She scans the room until she catches sight of the orange bottle on my desk. She darts over and snatches it up, examining the label. I wobble some more. She’s still reading the label. Her eyes go wide. I lose focus on her, suddenly the ground is rushing towards me. But it stops before it reaches me. I feel myself being turned over and gently laid to rest on the floor. I can make her out face again, it’s hovering above me and looking _very_ worried. 

“You are _such_ a dumbass. I come back to offer you some help and you try to commit suicide on me. Well guess what mister knife maniac. Now you don’t get a say in whether or not I help you. Because I’m not letting you die. So think on that while your body knits itself back together.” She holds her hand above my head. Her other hand pulls something out of a pocket in her jacket. It’s a pocket knife. She snaps it open and drags it across her palm. She puts the knife away and pinches the corners of my mouth, forcing it open. I can barely feel it though, because I’m passing out. The feeling is getting pretty familiar. 

“Drink up dummy. Maybe this’ll fix whatever’s causing your obvious mental deficiencies.” She mutters more to herself than to me. 

The last thing I see before the world goes completely fuzzy is her balled up fist floating above me, bleeding crimson drops straight into my mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything I know about medicine I learned by badly remembering episodes of House. If you actually know how to doctor feel free to correct me and I'll see if I can fix it. 
> 
> Thank!


	5. Headfirst For Hemo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Vampiric Angst, Intense Blood Drinking, Awkward Boner

I wake up from my blackout in the manner to which I have become accustomed. Questioning my life choices. 

“I am awake.” I announce to the room. “If anyone is here to rob, mutilate, or kill me I’d like to request a ten minute reprieve.” 

“I’m sorry.” I hear a familiar voice from behind me. “I’m so sorry.” 

I sit up and look around. Hoodie girl is in my desk chair. She has her head in her hands. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Sorry for what? Did you have to cut my dick off to save me?” 

She raises her head a little to stare at me. “No. Worse.” 

“Uhhhhhhhhh…” I run through my memories of last night. Painkillers, no porn, strange girl, drinking, fall, not much else. I’m pretty sure she saved me though, because I’m not dead now and she’s the only person here. 

I’m better than not dead, actually. I’ve got a good thing going. Like a one drink buzz combined with a good caffeine rush. “Did you have to Pulp Fiction me or something?” 

“No I- what?” She looks puzzled. I like it. Watching her think is nice. Just looking at her is nice. 

“Pulp Fiction, it’s a movie. A chick O.D.s on heroin or something and they have to inject adrenaline straight into her heart to restart it.” I cheerfully explain. 

She sighs a little. “No, nothing like that.” Her gaze drops to the floor. She must be admiring the bloodstains. “No. I… I fed you… I fed you my blood.” 

I don’t see the connection between that and me getting better. It’s a pretty hot thought though. My buzz kicks up a notch. 

Mostly in an effort to ditch the image of me licking scarlet blood off her snow white skin I ask, “Okay, how did that help, and why is it a bad thing?” 

She hides her face in her hands again. “Because I’m a monster, and now there’s a little monster in you too.” 

I get the impression she’s being literal with the monster thing. Her blood healing me from a deadly overdose is a point in favor of that theory. But I don’t like seeing her upset, monster or not. “You are the least monstrous person I think I’ve met. I’ve got close friends who would probably hold at least a little grudge about the stabbing thing.” 

She shakes her head. “No, no, no. You don’t get it. You should have attacked me. You were right. I _was_ attacking you. I was here to… I came to… I was going to drink your blood.” 

“Oh.” I can almost see a puzzle assembling in brain as the pieces click together. “ _Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh_.” 

“Do you get it now? What I did to you?” She’s upset. A little angry, a lot guilty. Again, I don’t like seeing her upset. It’s terrible. 

No, no I do not. “Not really. What happens when someone drinks _your_ blood? Am I going to turn into…?” 

That shocks her out of upset and into determined denial. “Oh. Oh no! God no! I would never… Not without asking. Even Cassie asked. Not that she wasn’t a little coercive about it.” 

That answered one of my questions. “So I’m…?” 

She’s calmer now, that’s good. She’s back to looking at me. “You’re a… a… a ghoul. I think. It sounds bad, and in a way it is, but you aren’t going to turn into a gross corpse eating monster. It’s what happens when a human is infused with vampire blood.” 

Okay. We’re making progress now. “So you fed me your blood and it healed me because magic. But now I’m… not human?” 

She chews on her lip. I know it’s because she’s worried but it’s just so… cute. Was she always this beautiful? It must be the improved lighting. She makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know much about this stuff. I’ve only been… this way for a few months. I’m pretty sure you’re still human though. Maybe just a little less them and a little more us.” 

That’s good. Being human is one of my defining traits. Not that being a vampire doesn’t have its own appeal. It just seems a little complicated. 

Something occurs to me. “Was this what you meant when you said you might be able to help me?” 

She nods. “Yeah. I was going to tell you what I knew and let you choose. You sort of forced my hand though.” 

She’d been talking about my arm at the time though. I’m pretty sure of that, even if I don’t think she came right out and said so. I try to flex my arm as best I can with all the casting and restraints. No pain at all. Though I had just recently overdosed on painkillers. Food for thought. 

“Your arm should be good too.” She must have noticed me checking. “Your body healed itself up pretty good. Quick too. It’s only been about an hour and a half.” 

So the vampire girl had fed me her blood to save me. I’m now in probably the best shape of my life. But she probably used more than a little blood herself. “Are you, and I may regret asking this but, are you hungry? When was the last time you… ate?” 

Her eyes widen and she spins the chair to face away from me. “I haven’t taken human blood since I set your arm, if that’s what you’re asking. That was how I dampened the pain. I’m sorry for that too.” 

She sounds pretty guilty about feeding on me. If she feels like that about feeding on anyone… The implications worry me. “What about before that? How much blood do you need?” 

I can’t see much of her past the back of the chair but it looks like she’s fidgeting. “A lot. It feels like. I keep trying to scrape by for as long as I can, but it always comes back around. I can get by on animals for a while, and I try to. But sometimes it’s hard to find enough and humans are just so much _easier_. So I try to feed on the sleeping or unconscious. Coma patients when I can get to them safely. It doesn’t make me feel any less guilty though.” 

I called it. “So you run near empty most of the time. You just ‘donated’ blood to me. You’ve got to be starving.” 

“Stop talking about it!” She snaps at me. The chair is visibly shaking. “It reeks of blood in here. I can barely control myself. I’d have left already but I owe you an explanation.” 

“So eat me.” Obvious solution is obvious. 

“What? No! I just… No!” She spins back around and stares at me incredulously. 

“Do you need to kill me to feed or something? You didn’t before.” It seems perfectly reasonable to me. I figure I owe her some blood back. “I’m good for it. They topped me off back at the hospital.” 

She scrunches her face up in frustration. I kind of wish she’d spin back around. It’s very distracting. “Ugh, dammit. You’re just saying that because of my blood!” 

“Yeah, you gave me yours, now you need mine.” I’m not sure what’s so hard to grasp about this plan. 

“No. No. No! Vampire blood, my blood, does… things. It’s why it’s so hard for me to lie to Cassie. It’s why you keep looking at me like I’m the first girl you’ve ever seen! You wouldn’t want to help me if you were… sober or whatever. I. Am. A. Monster.” 

“Okay. That’s weird, but not nonsensical. So I’m buzzed on your blood and it’s making me like you. Fine. So your plan is just to ditch me like this? Does it wear off? How quickly? Am I going to be pining for you the entire time? Am I safe now that you’ve told me all of this? What happens if another vampire finds out I’m a… ghoul or whatever and that you just left me behind?” 

“Fine!” In the span of a blink she’s kneeling almost on me, her faced shoved into, her fingers digging painfully into my shoulders. She bares her teeth. Her fangs are showing. “Is this what you want? To get the life sucked out of you to feed an undead creature you just met?” 

I stare straight into her eyes. That other vampire, Cassie, had a demon’s soul hidden behind hers. This girl has a very human look of guilt. I smirk and tilt my head to present my neck. “You bet. Do it.” 

She lunges forward and I feel her fangs sink into me. The same rush of pleasure from the other night rushes through me. Without the shock of severe bodily harm to hide it I also feel a cold wash of pain. 

The pleasure is ecstasy. The pain is exquisite. It hurts, but in concert with the pleasure. I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me. I can feel the life draining from me, but it’s a slow process. She must be dragging it out. I dig my fingers into her back, trying to match the pressure hers are putting on my shoulders. 

She shifts suddenly, hugging me around my shoulders and shifting into my lap. Her lags wrap around the small of my back. She’s grinding against my stomach. I doubt she notices. I’m surprised I do. I feel a soft vibration against my throat. It’s her moaning into my neck as she drinks. No part of the experience is anything less than wondrous. 

She pulls away and I feel the sting of the puncture wounds in my neck. But she licks them and the pain fades. As the euphoria dies down I realize I’ve been moaning too. An awkward erection is straining against the fabric of my pants. She doesn’t seem to notice but I still look away, flushed with embarrassment. 

She’s panting softly. The sound isn’t doing anything to calm me down. I’m struggling clear my head. “Was it good for you, babe?” 

“Yeah…” she whispers absentmindedly, before making a choking noise and shoving me backwards. I look back at her as she flails a little, struggling to get away from me. Her face is a mask of horror and guilt. “No! Nononono… Why would you do that? Why would you make me do that to you? I lost it. I can’t believe…” 

I straighten back up and stare at her calmly. “You know. I think I’d sign up for that even if I weren’t ‘intoxicated’ by your blood.” 

“Of course you would! That’s the point you fucking moron!” She’s shouting at me. “Why don’t you get it? Why aren’t you _scared_?” 

“Because you aren’t scare- _y_. You’re too nice. Too human. You feel so guilty that you want to be hated and that makes it _impossible_!” Now I’m getting frustrated. “You’re not like her, you aren’t Cassie!” 

She yells something incomprehensible into her hands and stands up. In an instant she’s at my window and before I can speak or react, she’s gone. 

I crawl into my bed and ball up. I don’t feel _quite_ like crying. Instead I just try to control my breathing as I try to think of something, anything I could have done differently. Something to keep her from leaving. But nothing comes to me as I slowly drift off to sleep, too emotionally drained to stand being awake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I'd apologize for the emo shit. But fuck it. It's a vampire story. You knew what you were getting into.


	6. House of Waffles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Graphic Depictions of Crushing, Does Not Contain Waffles, Brief Exercise

Someone’s knocking on my door. I roll over onto my left side. My arm is still covered in metal and plaster. I yelp in sudden discomfort and the knocking intensifies. The cat’s out of the bag now so I give in and answer the door. It’s my landlord and a couple guys in uniforms. They look like technicians or something. 

“Hey Jim, something up?” There are several things up. I’m just curious which one in particular. 

“Good morning.” Jim looks a little uncomfortable. “About the other night. We needed to bring some people in,” he indicates the two men behind him, “to clean up the, um, mess.” 

The thought that my carpet is pretty much fucked hadn’t really occurred to me until now. I’m not sure whether to be surprised it took this long for Jim to get someone, or this quickly. 

I nod politely. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” 

Jim relaxes a little. “Nothing now, really. Just let the guys do their job. Will that be alright?” 

I kind of wish he’d called ahead, or asked me if today would be okay or something. It’s not a big deal though. “Yeah, that’s fine. Do I need to actually _be_ here?” 

Jim looks at one of the guys. The guys shakes his head. Jim looks back at me and shrugs. 

“Cool, do what you need to, I’ll be out of your hair in five.” I leave the door open behind me and start to round up my shit. It’s all good until I realize I need to get a shirt on. A nurse had helped me into my current one at the hospital. It ends up taking a lot more than five to hit the streets. By the time I leave the cleaning guys have already started cutting a swathe of the carpet out. Good luck cleaning _under_ that. I don’t envy them. 

I text Alex on the way down the stairs. It takes some prodding, but eventually I talk him into skipping his grueling physical routine this morning to eat greasy breakfast food at the diner. I stand around inside until he messages me that he’s on his way. Now it’s time to face the cold apathy of the outside world. 

Oh yeah. My window is broken, the outside isn’t any colder. I shake the last remnants of sleep fog from my brain and lean against the wall to wait for Alex. But he’s not showing. I decide to give him a few more minutes or until someone decides I’m loitering around selling dope or something. I’m definitely glad I’m not wearing a beanie. 

Alex finally rolls up. Or, more accurately, walks up. He jogged here. He’s offensively cheerful when he greets me. “Liz! Good to see you up and about. How’s the arm?” 

I shoot him the dirtiest look I can manage, “Fine. Hurts a little when I _walk_ though.” 

“You took your painkillers right? You’ll be fine. Get the blood flowing, it’ll help your body repair itself!” Typical Alex. Though, in a way, flowing blood had definitely helped the healing along. 

Ouch, bad thought. Now I’m thinking about _her_. I give Alex another dirty look and start jogging. Maybe if I ignite my lungs and explode my heart I’ll feel better. Instead I just start thinking about her again. Had I made her cry last night? Does she hate me now? How did she feel before that? Did she like me personally at all, or just feel guilty about her vampire stuff? I pick up my pace. Maybe I can outrun my own mind. 

I can’t. I shove a dumb question aside and two more will take its place. Or, even worse, I’ll remember her face. Or her eyes. Or how good it felt when she drank my blood. 

It’s like when I first started falling for Lydia all those years ago. Like five of them. It had been a struggle to focus on anything else. I’d start getting butterflies every time she payed attention to me. Everything she said was so brilliant and interesting. Wait, never mind, that was true before I was super into her. Still true, in fact. 

That had been natural though. I’d at least _known_ Lydia. Even if it had only been for a few months. Now I’m getting all twisted up over a girl I’ve talked to for less than an hour total. Vampire girl seemed pretty convinced that drinking her blood had done something to me. But it didn’t _feel_ less natural compared to any other huge crush I’d had. 

I’m about to try and pick up my pace again when I realize we’re already at the diner. I slow to a walk. The exertion of almost sprinting the entire way here catches up with me and I have to lean against a wall to catch my breath. It sucks but I haven’t quite exploded my heart. 

I don’t see Alex outside. He probably already went in to get a table. I look around the diner through the window but don’t see him in there either. I do hear footsteps coming up from behind me, though. I turn to look and, sure enough, Alex is coming up behind me. He falls against the wall next to me and pants for a minute. 

“What the hell man. You just took off. I’ve been a block behind you for two miles!” It’s weird how incredulous he sounds. 

“Did you have to stop to tie your shoe or something?” The idea of Alex spending two miles anywhere near me is patently ridiculous. If I hadn’t been so lost in thought on the way here I’d probably have given up halfway and walked from there. 

“No. I let you have a head start because you usually peter out after, like, two blocks. But you just kept going.” He looks completely serious. “Have you been training for a marathon or something without inviting me?” 

I laugh at that. The last time I trained for a race I was eight. “Must be the painkillers numbing me to suffering. Keep an eye on me so I don’t drop dead from exhaustion in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah, man. Sure thing.” He still looks like he can’t quite believe it. 

We head into the diner. It’s between breakfast and lunchtime so we get seated almost immediately. We order drinks, coke for me, milk for Alex. I pull up the chess app on my phone. “Milk dude? You still worried about caffeine upsetting your delicate system?” 

“Every time, Liz. You nag at me about that _every_ , _single_ , _time_. Yes I don’t drink caffeine still. No I’m not worried about all the hormones they pump into cows. You can’t care that much anyways, _you_ still drink it.” 

I make the first move and slide the phone to Alex. “Can’t argue that. You _know_ I don’t give a shit what’s in my food.” 

“Yeah, and until today you got winded if you had to handle too many stairs.” He passes it back to me. 

“I told you. I had something on my mind.” I take my turn and flick the phone across the table, sending it spinning. 

He goes and hands the phone back, making a show of treating it gently. “No. You said it was probably the painkillers.” 

“Then it was both. Don’t get all bent out of shape over one good-“ I’m about to pass the phone again when our drinks show up. 

I order the nastiest burger on the menu. The thing would send a horse into cardiac arrest. I do it just to see Alex’s face. He orders grilled chicken or some shit and a chicken fried steak. He never orders fried food. 

He must see the look I’m giving him because he quickly explains, “Lydia’s on her way. I told her we were hanging out. I figured you could use the extra support. Especially after I ruin you like I’m about to.” 

I pass him the phone. He makes his move and passes it back. I barely look at it before going and throw it across the table. He catches it smoothly and checks my play. “For someone acting so defensive, you’re really out for blood.” 

“I’m on the defensive because you’ve been acting like you think I’m blood doping or something.” I take a drink. Talking about blood brings unbidden images of being pressed against vampire girl as she moans into my neck. I feel my face flush and shake my head to try and clear my mind. 

Alex doesn’t seem to notice though. “You’re right. Sorry. Maybe I am a little miffed that you managed to keep pace with me for so long. You’re still not dead from exhaustion, by the way.” 

“I don’t blame you. I’d get a little territorial if you suddenly wiped me in… any video game ever, actually.” I say, staring intently at my phone. The match is getting pretty heated. I’d started strong, but Alex had weathered the storm and is now counterattacking. 

“You would. You’d be pissy about it all week, trying to get me to rematch you.” He laughs. “You make fun of Lydia and Alex when they get competitive, but you’re just as bad. Only with everyone.” 

I respond not with words but by spending the next ten minutes rendering his counterattack impotent and systematically exterminating him. He fought agood fight, but I’d thrown myself into the game to keep from thinking about ‘you know who’. 

Alex slaps the table in frustration. “twenty-two twenty, your favor. Dick.” 

“Don’t hate man. It was touch and go a couple times. You’re still my intellectual equal.” I lounge back in my seat. 

“You say as you attempt bask majestically in the glory of your victory.” He rolls his eyes. “Seriously. If you get any more smug I’m going to start demonstrating holds on you again.” 

I dial the smugness down immediately. Alex may be a pacifist outside of the ring. But he’s a local MMA legend and his ‘demonstrations’ are usually only a few degrees of twisting away from the real deal. I’ve already lost one arm this week. 

But, in a stroke of luck, the food chooses now to arrive. Followed seconds later by Lydia. “Hey Liz. Alex lose this time? He looks like you just killed Christmas.” 

“Yeah, I outran him here, then outsmarted him at chess. I’m the complete package baby.” I wink at her. 

“ _You_ ran _here_? From your place?” I still don’t believe it myself, why should she? “I find that hard to believe on its own. If you beat Alex here without him getting hit by a car or something I’ll… I don’t know… make out with you. Like, right here.” 

Alex starts to say something but I cut in, “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to make out.” 

“Not formally. You declined a hookup, once, then went from full flirting to friend zoning in about a day. I, of course, fully respect your unspoken desire not to have passes made at you.” I think I might be inclined to bicker with her about the definition of ‘fully’ as well as what constitutes a ‘pass’. 

“Are you _lawyering_ this?” Looks like we all get our moments of disbelief today. 

“You bet. It’s fun!“ At least she’s cheerful, I guess. “It’d be completely platonic. I promise. Just think of it as an enthusiastic hello.” Her smile is absolutely villainous. “Besides, you were giving me eyes back at the hospital, remember?” 

It hits me. “She’s here isn’t she?” I ask flatly. 

“Who, uh, do you mean?” Bullseye. 

I reach over into the booth behind me and swat around until I make contact with something. 

“Hey!” It’s ‘other Alex’. 

“You were just going to go the ‘enthusiastic hello’ route originally.” I’m not asking. 

Lydia rubs the back of her neck, “Yeah. You got me.” 

I sigh and make room for her. “Why do you let her put you up to these things?” 

‘Other Alex’ answers for her, “Because you two are destined lovers, held apart only by a wicked sorceress and her evil enchantment.” 

I take bite of my burger to keep from groaning. “You know, historically, true love isn’t considered an evil enchantment.” I say around a mouthful of grease and charred flesh. 

Alex chimes in finally, “He did beat me by the way. So, you know, pucker up Liz.” 

I lament the fact that I cannot glare at three people at once. 

Lydia wraps her arm around me, I think she’s going to go after me but she just shakes me a little and laughs. “Chill out Liz. I’m not going to straight out molest you. Not if you aren’t interested.” 

‘Other Alex’ looks crestfallen. 

“How’d you outrun Alex, anyways?” Lydia asks while cutting up her steak. 

“The doctors turned me into the six million dollar man while I was under.” Lydia giggles while the other two just look at me. 

Alex speaks up, “He says he was distracted by his thoughts and that somehow allowed him to work through the pain of running something other than a .exe.” 

“I said it was the painkillers. My thoughts weren’t that big of a deal!” I’m having trouble keeping chill about this. Which is weird because I’ve kept chill about a lot worse things than crushes on cute girls. Like when I had to give witness testimony for a case where a chick beat her boyfriend up pretty bad with an impressively large sex toy. I’ve lived a good life, until recently anyways. 

“He’s super defensive about it too. He was like this earlier.” Alex will die. The girls’ continued survival hinges on their next words. 

Lydia chews for a second, swallows, and says flatly, “Girl.” 

‘Other Alex’ nods, “Definitely a girl.” 

I think about denying it. I’m already blushing though. Also looking away in embarrassment. So they’d probably call my bluff. 

The girls are still straight faced, but Alex is grinning like an idiot. “Man, Liz, aren’t you a little old for crushes?” 

I go to say something but ‘other Alex’ elbows him in the side, hard, without looking. 

“What’s she like? She must be special if just thinking about her turns you into an Olympic sprinter.” Her voice is restrained to the level of polite interest, but Lydia’s eyes are sparkling. 

Never having learned to phase through solid objects and trapped against the wall by Lydia herself I’m forced to prepare for an intense interrogation session. “She’s nice. It’s the girl who took care of me when I fell down those stairs. The first time.” Lydia’s eyebrow twitches for a second and ‘other Alex’ makes a face. “I saw her again.” 

‘Other Alex’ is practically vibrating in her seat despite her composed face. Lydia takes a bite and nods politely while she finishes it. “’Nice’ is a little vague. You can go into more detail, we’re not going to judge.” 

Alex is still rubbing his side. He looks up and shakes his head, before burying his gaze back into his food. 

I exhale audibly. “I don’t actually know all that much about her. It wasn’t a very long meeting. In fact, now that I think about it, we didn’t even exchange names.” 

“Too busy making out in the stairwell?” ‘Other Alex’ bursts out. 

The look Lydia shoots her is withering. “Ignore her. Did you talk about anything?” 

‘Other Alex’ pouts when I answer Lydia instead of her. “A little. We talked about my arm. I had a hard time explaining the new damage. She felt so bad it was hard to get her to talk about anything else. Other subjects included how sorry she was that she couldn’t stick around to help before, that I should pass along an apology for waking Alex up so late, and intense regret for not being able to stay to talk for very long.” 

“That’s a lot of apologies for one conversation.” I can’t read the feeling behind Lydia’s comment. 

“Yeah. I think she might be a little anxious. Or have a guilt complex or something. Even with all that, though, she was really fun to just… be with.” I’m having trouble keeping the lying about events consistent with the genuineness of the emotions I’m feeling. 

Luckily Lydia lets it go without further comment. Alex has her own line of questioning though, “Was she cuuute?” 

She’d been absolutely perfect. “Pretty cute, yeah.” 

“Did you kiiiss?” Believe it or not, ‘other Alex’ is a year older than me. 

Sort of. Not properly. I wish we had. “No. We barely know each other.” 

She seems disappointed. “Did you touch at all?” 

Yes. Just remembering makes it hard to breathe. “I kinda crashed into her going down the hallway. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“I guess it’s pointless to ask if you want to see her again, “ ‘other Alex’ rolls her eyes slightly, “so how about if I ask what kinds of dirty, nasty-“ 

“Alright Alex, leave the poor boy alone. He’s barely touched his food.” Lydia cuts in. 

‘Other Alex crosses her arms and looks away, pouting again. Lydia turns to me and smiles. “Come on. Finish eating and we’ll give you guys a lift back home.” 

Alex makes a dismissive hand gesture. “I’m fine jogging back. Loverboy here interrupted my routine so I could use the exercise.” He shakes his head. “Besides, Alex scares me.” 

‘Other Alex’ isn’t facing him, but she still smiles gleefully at the ‘compliment’. 

The rest of the meal passes relatively quickly. Lydia asks how my arm is doing. ‘Other Alex’ tries to bring up my crush a few more times and gets shot down. Alex is uncharacteristically quiet. When we’re finally done eating the girls fight over the bill. Lydia and her Alex each want to cover my meal. Presumably because I’m injured. In retribution I manage to covertly cover my meal as well as Lydia’s. My subterfuge is met with outrage. As we finally leave the diner I swear I see one the staff thanking god. We all say goodbye to Alex and he jogs off into the distance. 

The car is parked nearby. Lydia claims the driver seat and Alex forcefully insists that I ride shotgun. Seating order arranged, we pile in and shut the doors. Lydia does not start the car. 

She’s sitting still, staring at me. I’m a little worried. “Uh, what’s up? If you’re still mad about the bill…” 

She’s not, whatever this is about, she’s dead serious. “Alex is gone, Liz, spill it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were hoping for explicit sex, violence, or drama how did you make it to this note without realizing this chapter contains none of those things? 
> 
>  
> 
> ...Unless you were hoping I'm a big Tarantino fan.


	7. Give Him Hell, Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Interrogation, Misuse of Power Tools, Bad TV

“Spill what?” Had she caught me in a lie? I’m usually an adequate liar. But it’s usually a quick event, not a conversation, and I lean heavily on the fact that I have a reputation for complete candor. 

“Who’s the girl? You didn’t have a brief conversation in the hallway with her, and I’m starting to doubt she just ‘happened’ to find you after your ‘fall’.” Lydia looks like she’s trying to psychically penetrate my mind. 

Okay. She might have picked up on the lies. What did she actually _know_ though? “You think I’d lie about that?” 

“If there was something to hide.” It’s getting harder to meet Lydia’s eyes. Alex is in the back seat looking back and forth between us. She looks like she wants to say something but is holding back. 

“What is there to hide? I fell, I broke my arm, a good Samaritan came along to help me out.” Why is she so sure about this? 

“So you broke your arm on accident the day before someone snuck into your place and broke it again?” She’s still staring holes in me. It’s unnerving. 

Alex finally cuts in. “You took him seriously? He jokes about that shit-“ Lydia silences her with a raised finger. 

I want to agree with Alex. Say it was just a joke. But Lydia knows when I’m joking, she said as much at the time. Now it’s looking like she knows when I’m lying, too. Still, I protest. “It’s just a coincidence. The fall was just a normal screw up. The other thing was weird, sure, but it can’t have had any relation.” 

Lydia reaches over and yanks my collar down. I try to protest but she grabs the base of my neck and squeezes softly. I wince in discomfort, reminded of vampire girl choke slamming me into a wall that first night. 

“I’m not a forensic analyst Liz. But I catch little details. The bruises on your neck that first night? You didn’t fall neck first into any stairs. You want to know why I believed you at the hospital? I trust you, of course, and I can tell when you’re serious. But you know what really convinced me? The handprints bruised into your fucked up arm.” She’s practically growling at me now. She hasn’t let go of my neck either. She’s only a billion dollars and some karate lessons away from being Batman. 

“Has someone been hurting you Liz?” Alex asks cautiously from the back. 

I sigh theatrically. “You caught me. My pimp’s been beating me because some of the money went missing. One of my joh-“ I’m silenced by Lydia flexing her grip on my throat. I yelp a little. 

“Hey Lydia maybe you should let up a little. He obviously doesn’t want-“ Lydia glares Alex into silence. I’m starting to get a little freaked out. 

She looks back to me, still glaring. “You owe us an explanation Liz. We had to stand and watch you _bleed out_ on the floor in front of us. Glad to see your wrist is doing fine, by the way.” _Shit_. I’d taken off the dressing this morning and forgot to replace it. “It looked pretty bad when it was leaking your blood _like a_ _fountain_ but I guess it was just superficial.” 

I try to reach behind me to open the car door and escape but she lunges forward, pressing me against the door, pinning my arm behind me. 

“Lydia. You’re _scaring_ me.” I try to shake her hand away but she just squeezes until I’m still again. 

“Good. You scared _us_. Do you know how worried we were? Alex _cried_.” Lydia’s lip curls into snarl. 

“Hey!” Alex shouts indignantly. 

Lydia ignores her completely. “She cried the entire time you were in the operating room. _You made my girlfriend cry_." Was that what this is about? Alex doesn’t cry easy, or at all I thought, but this is a little extreme. 

“So what’s so important that you need to lie to us about it?” 

I start to answer but she isn’t finished. “Oh, and if you tell us that ‘we wouldn’t believe you’ or that ‘we’d be in danger if you told us’ I’m going to throw you out of this car and hit you with it. Then I’m going to back up over you until the rest of you looks like your arm.” 

After seeing her like this I’m not convinced there isn’t a nonzero possibility of her actually doing that. I don’t think I can get out of this without admitting some of the truth. “She did it. The girl I’m ‘crushing’ on broke my arm the first time!” I shout. 

Lydia lets go of me and sits back looking stunned. “What?” She asks. 

“She snuck into my apartment while I was sleeping. I woke up and saw an invader so I attacked her. She freaked out and slammed against a wall, then threw me at my bed. I broke my arm on the headboard.” 

Alex and Lydia respond in cannon. “What?” 

“She fixed it up and called Alex. Then she ran off. The next night the younger girl, she looked, like, twelve or something, shows up. Turns out the first girl is a good friend of hers and she’s pissed that I attacked her. So she goes apeshit on my arm and leaves.” 

Lydia’s are scanning back and forth like she’s reading her thoughts, trying to piece everything together. Alex is staring blankly at me. I keep going. “Then, last night, the first girl shows up again. She wants to apologize for breaking my arm even though I basically deserved it for trying to brutally murder her. I’m having trouble handling all of this shit that’s been happening. So I hit the bottle, hard. But I’d already taken my painkillers and I start dying midway through the conversation. When I wake up she’s done something weird to fix me, which she also apologizes for. Then she runs off into the night. Then today happens, but you were there for that.” 

Lydia shakes her head. “First, I believe you. I probably shouldn’t, but it’s not funny, it’s not a reference, and I don’t think you can fake spilling your guts like that. Second, for every question you just answered you raised about three more.” 

Alex is, for her part, still dumbfounded. Still, she manages to clear her head enough to speak next. “So Lydia is the third girl to beat you up in four days?” 

“Yes Alex. Yes she is.” I appreciate Alex trying to lift the mood. I don’t always. But today it’s nice. 

Lydia ignores us. “So a girl threw you into a wall hard enough to break your arm. Not impossible, you didn’t describe her size or physique. Then a twelve year old girl utterly destroys your arm. I can’t rule that out as impossible, but I’d think it extremely unlikely. Then the first girl saves you from a lethal drug cocktail and, presumably, your wrist injury by unknown means. I’m inclined to call that _actually_ impossible.” 

“Entire arm, too.” I chip in. 

“Oh. Of course. I don’t suppose you have any additional information that might complete the picture here?” Lydia is clearly frustrated. Not with me, just the mystery at large. 

Alex pipes up again. “Maybe they were fairies. Ooh! Or demons! Maybe the first girl is a succubus and she put a spell on Liz. That’s why he wants to be all up in her!” 

“Not helpful, Alex.” Lydia says absentmindedly, back to being lost in her thoughts. 

“Yeah,” I whisper to myself, “they were obviously vampires.” 

Alex and Lydia are looking at me strangely. “Uh, did I say that out loud? I was just joking to myself.” 

“No. You joke out loud. When you talk to yourself it’s because you’re thinking.” Lydia looks at me disapprovingly. 

“If you know so much about me why don’t you just major in Liz studies.” I mutter. 

“She doesn’t like open book tests. Too easy.” Alex looks smug about that one. “Now tell us what you said.” 

“Fine. She said she was a vampire.” I don’t even care anymore. “The first girl did. Just don’t go spreading it around. I don’t _know_ that there’s a vampire mafia. But you have to wonder how they keep off the radar.” 

“I dunno, I like my demon theory better.” Alex doesn’t seem to care anymore either. From the other direction though. She’s not buying any of this. 

Whatever. “I’m serious. _Dead_ serious, in fact.” Alex makes a face at that. “She healed me by feeding me her blood. Then she… um…” Hands around my shoulders. Lips against my neck. “She drank my blood. I found that to be fairly solid evidence.” 

“Oh man, look at him blush. Where’d she drink it from? Your-“ Alex starts. 

“I swear to god Alex. This is just a little bit serious. Monsters exist and they’re stalking Liz. We all might be in danger now.” I have no idea why Lydia is believing any of this. Unless she actually is a lie detector. 

“Come on babe. Either he’s taking you for a ride or he hit his head too hard going down the stairs. The girl that helped him mentioned a concussion.” Alex is reacting like any reasonable person would. I’m not sure what to make of that. 

“Something happened to him Alex. It’s his word what. But something did.” Lydia grabs my arm and shoves my wrist toward Alex, twisting me uncomfortably in my seat. “Look, you saw that knife just as well as I did. There’s not a mark on him. Even his bruises are gone!” 

A thought occurs to me and I giggle. A little too loudly perhaps. Lydia looks at me sharply. “What’s so funny?” 

“You guys. You’re, uh…” The thought is sounding a little less funny now that I have to share it. “You’ve kind of got a Mulder and Scully thing going. Lydia sounds just like him, in fact.” 

Lydia let’s go of my arm and falls back in her seat laughing. Almost to the point of tears it looks like. Alex rolls her eyes, “That’s… X-files right? With the aliens?” Lydia just laughs harder. 

“Yeah. Good catch. You don’t usually get the tv ones.” Lydia is still going, I think the stress might have gotten to her. 

“Yeah. Well. I spend time outside.” Alex sticks her tongue out at me. 

“Up in trees looking through windows?” I ask. 

“At least I don’t go breaking into them. Unlike your ‘ _girlfriend_ ’.” Alex crosses her arms and glares at me. 

“Knock it off you two. We’re going back to our place.” Lydia seems to have calmed down enough to start the car. “Then we’re going fuck around with Liz’s cast. If his arm is better too then there’s no denying something extreme went down last night.” 

“It could still have been demons. Maybe they gave him, like, reverse stigmata.” Alex huffs as we pull out. 

Lydia and I look at each other, but keep quiet. In fact, the rest of the ride is pretty quiet. It’s only a few minutes to their place from the diner but the lack of _any_ conversation is a little unusual. Once we’re there Lydia doesn’t waste much time in pulling out Alex’s power tools. 

While she digs through drawers I look around. I’ve never actually been here. The apartment itself fairly luxuriant. Having two rooms for living space _and_ a private bathroom must be nice. But otherwise it’s pretty spartan. Except for the abundance of drawers. I’m honestly a little scared of what might be lurking in some of them. 

“Oh! Uh…” I hear Lydia exclaim. 

“Oh yeah. I modified the jigsaw for an article I was writing. The power drill should be fine though as long as you change out the bit.” It’s amazing how Alex can make me so curious and yet instill a desire for ignorance simultaneously. 

“This thing is terrifying, do you actually…?” Lydia’s voice seems to mirror my own feelings. 

“Nah. I loan ‘em out or post instructions and ask for written reports. My craftsmanship is really improving with all the feedback! Don’t worry though, I wash and disinfect the loaners.” I have a hypothesis about the subject of this discussion. I don’t want to test it. 

Eventually whatever is going on is resolved and Lydia emerges from their room with a cordless drill and a distressingly large pair of pliers. I immediately regret agreeing to this. It occurs to me that never actually did agree to this. But I don’t think the girls are going to be deterred at this point. 

Alex points at the low table in the center of the room. “Hey Liz, we haven’t got all day. Get on the table so Lydia can drill you.” 

I’m not impressed. “Nice try, but your insinuation falls flat on account of you not holding a camera.” 

Lydia smiles. “He’s got you there, Alex.” 

I do sit down at the table though, and place my plaster coated arm on the table. “Don’t bother with the weird cage around my forearm. It was wired to the bone fragments and I think they fused around it.” 

“Gotcha. What if we just clip it off at your skin?” Lydia asks. 

I’m not going to visiting a doctor any time soon and I don’t want the damn thing interfering with my life. “Fuck it, go ahead. What’s the worst that can happen?” 

Alex and Lydia look at each other. “A lot, actually. Especially lately.” Alex says. 

“You do seem to have had a streak of bad luck.” Lydia adds. 

“I said do it. Don’t pussy out on me now. I need my southpaw back to punch vampires. Nazi vampires.” I act pumped. 

Lydia shrugs and sits down next to me. She buzzes the drill a few times and gets to work. 

It takes hours. Alex had to turn on the tv about fifteen minutes in. It’s a sleazy soap opera. After about half an hour of that I crack and ask her to change it. She switches to the ‘movies that ostensibly have a plot but are actually just vehicles for softcore porn and partial nudity’ channel. I’m afraid to ask her to change it again. 

Finally my arm is freed from its personal purgatory. I flex it a little and enjoy the feeling of air moving over my skin. It looks perfectly normal. No scars, no bruises, just a normal arm. Full of metal. Damn. I do need to see a doctor at some point. 

Lydia leans back and wipes her forehead with her sleeve. “Damn Liz, drilling you gets a girl sweaty.” 

Alex snorts and giggles behind me. I give Lydia a sour look. “You two deserve each other.” 

“Your arm looks fine. So yeah. Something fucked up weird happened to you. Vampire blood makes about as much sense as anything else.” Lydia looks behind me, to Alex. 

“Okay. Fine. I’m only accepting this to make jokes though. I want that on the record.” She lightly kicks the back of my head. “I also want it recorded that Liz wants to bang a dead chick. We always knew you were weird, dude.” 

“You caught me Alex. I desperately want to swap spit with a moving corpse. I’ll stare deeply into her brilliant sapphire eyes and brush a strand of her perfect orange hair out of the way as I grab her cold, dead hand with the other. Then we’ll slowly lean in-“ 

Alex makes a gagging noise. Lydia laughs. I try to picture vampire girl laughing. It’s hard. I haven’t exactly seen her at the best of times. Talking about kissing her had been a bad idea. Thinking about her at all today had been a bad idea. I lean forward until my head hits the table. Bits of plaster and fabric are scattered all over it. 

“You look tired. Want us to take you home?” Lydia asks concernedly. “Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll get it.” 

I consider it. “Yeah. I don’t want to, like, run out on you guys or anything though, but… Oh. Actually, if you guys aren’t done tormenting me yet, the guys might be done fixing the carpet at my place. You can hang out if you want. I’ve got booze.” 

“Wooo!” Alex jumps up. “Party time. We can play strip trivia, and spin the bottle, and twister. Maybe vampire girl will show up again tonight and we can play truth or make out with whoever Alex tells you to!” 

“It’s just about three-thirty right now. Isn’t it a bit early to party quite that hard?” Lydia says, echoing my own thoughts. She turns to me. “Or drinking at all, Liz?” 

“It’s six ‘o clock somewhere!” Alex shouts and I mutter, simultaneously. 

“Okay. But whatever happens, I am not responsible for any of it. I disavow responsibility for any actions taken, including my own.” Lydia says as she throws her coat back on. 

“Sounds good.” I reply. 

“Awesome.” Alex responds, putting on her own coat. 

I don’t have a coat. I’m too awesome to feel cold. Not in the warm weather we’ve been having. Lydia locks up and we pile into the car and head to my place. Whatever happens, I’ll probably regret it later. Maybe I should call _Alex_ Alex to chaperone or something. Or not. I don’t exactly want my ‘problem’ brought up around anyone else at the moment and heavy drinking sure sounds like the solution to my problems. Totally. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Lydia should be a forensic analyst. 
> 
> Or Batman. 
> 
> Or Mulder.


	8. Thank You For The Vitae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Drinking To Cope, Making Out To Cope, Failing To Cope

Three hours later Alex is nursing her third drink. Lydia is past six or seven and mixing something dangerous at the counter. I’m three sheets to the wind and stopped counting an hour and a half ago. It took me a while longer to get going than usual but I’m living it up now. 

“-so the dog pulls out of the daughter, and the dad pulls out of the dog. Then they all turn to the manager and bow. The manager asks, “What the fuck do you call _that_?” 

And the dad says, “The Aristocrats!”” I try to bow a little myself but I’m cracking up at my own joke and end up just falling over sideways onto the bed. 

Lydia laughs too and I hear something land in the sink and clatter around. “Chrissfuck!” 

Alex is looking at her phone. “Very nice Liz. That was even funnier than the fourth variant, but still not as funny as the second or the sixth.” She doesn’t even look up. 

“What is wrong Alex?” I can keep from slurring my speech. But only if I measure each word and enunciate as clearly as possible. “I thought you came to party?” 

“Oh no. It’s fine. You two are partying hard enough for about four people. If I don’t keep watch you guys’ll end up streaking through the halls or something.” I honestly can’t tell if she’s being facetious. 

Lydia turns around, crazy drink in hand. “Is that somehow _not_ your kind of party, Alex?” 

“Look guys. I know I was super into the party plan when we got here. But I’m starting to accept the whole vampire thing. You guys seem dead set on forgetting it.” Alex puts her phone away and stares at me. “You especially.” 

“Cut me some schlak Alex. I drank a bunch of magic dead person blood lastht night and itsh making me crush on a vampire babe. If I need to do a little forgetting for one night can you blame me?” So much for enunciation. 

Alex starts a little, she’s still staring. “What? You never mentioned that!” 

Lydia gestures with her drink. “Nope. You didn’t mention your vampire love curse. That seems like an important detail.” 

“Itsch fine. I juhsht keep forgetting becauzsh it duhshent feel any different from the normal infathuatshun crap I had to go through back in the day.” God I sound like a drunk asshole. Oh wait. 

Lydia makes a disgusted noise. “With the butterflies and the blushing and wanting to stab yourself in the feely parts of the brain?” 

Alex glares at her. “Lydia. Babe. You were there when he was talking about her.” 

“Yeah. With the things you said.” I respond a little too late. 

“That’s terrible!” Lydia waves her free arm up and down for emphasis. 

I try to imitate her but I’m still sideways on the bed. “I know! I can’t shtop hoping sthe comes back to say ‘Hi’ or feed off me or sometthing.” 

Lydia snorts. “Pft, yeah. I bet you’d prefer ‘or something’.” 

Alex’s glare bounces between us a few times before she throws her arms up in surrender and pulls her phone back out. 

“Hey! Don’t add exthra meaning to my words Lydia.” Her insinuations are not currently appreciated. 

“Suuure.” Lydia knocks the rest of her drink back. “Tell you what. I have an idea that could help you forget your little vampire problem.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what? Electric shock therp- therpip- thingy?” I might be too drunk to function properly. In fact, I’m still on my side. I right myself. The room takes its sweet time following suit. 

Lydia struts across the room to me and caresses my cheek, pulling my head up to face her. “It definitely involves shock. Why don’t _you_ tell _me_ if it’s electric?” 

I actually manage to remain confused until she actually has her tongue in my mouth. There’s a pretty large delay between things happening and me feeling them at this point, so my own technique is a little questionable. But Lydia has my face in her hands and is just going to _town_ on me. There’s a part of my brain frantically trying to remind me that this is exactly the kind of thing I’ve been trying to avoid. But, as previously mentioned, I am drunk. Not mentioned was the fact that I haven’t been kissed like this in years. Lydia was right, I wasn’t thinking about anything else right now. 

“Hey, what are you two idiots even- Hey!” Alex must have finally looked up from her phone. 

Lydia breaks the kiss and turns around. “Sorry babe, I just thought he could- Um!” 

I lean to look around Lydia, more than a little disappointed about the kiss ending so suddenly. “What’s going- Oh!” 

Two familiar figures are standing in front of my open, still broken, window. In front, clad in baseball hat and shorts, is, presumably, Cassie. New shirt tonight, this one lets the reader know that her dick won’t be sucking itself. Keeping it classy, Cassie. Behind, and several inches taller than, her is the focus of my recent emotional turmoil. Different hoodie, same beautiful eyes. 

Cassie breaks the silence. “We weren’t interrupting were we?” She smiles at Lydia and I. “Because we were just passing by when we heard you talking about, I can only assume, dear little Blair here and how she’s intoxicated the mind of your friend.” 

I’m suddenly feeling a lot more sober. “Alex, Lydia, run. Run now.” 

Alex stands up, but she and Lydia haven’t moved a step. “Liz, is this-“ 

Cassie keeps on smiling as I loudly interrupt. “Did I fucking _stutter_!?” 

That seems to get through to them. They rush out the door and slam it behind them. I don’t hear footsteps. 

Cassie is looking at the door. “They’re still right there, you know.” 

I’d kind of guessed. I stand up to move between Cassie and the door. In a way, I succeed. My prone body is now pretty squarely between the two. 

Vampire girl, ‘Blair’ Cassie had called her, starts to move towards me. Only to be stopped by Cassie’s outstretched arm. She looks to Cassie. “Cassie, look at him! Don’t-“ 

“Don’t what, Blair?” Cassie interjects. “I don’t remember telling you why we’re here.” 

Cassie walks over to me and rolls me onto my back with her foot. “You sure this is such a big deal Blair? He looks like he was doing a pretty good job of getting over you.” 

“This is what I’m talking about Cassie, and you know it.” Blair moves a little closer. The look of concern on her face is touching, I have to admit. 

“Maybe I don’t. Booze, girl, there’s worse ways to deal with it. You’d have been fine if we hadn’t shown up, right buddy?” Cassie directs the question to me. 

“Honestly? She’s taken. I regret kissing her already, and I’m not even sober yet.” Well, not all of me regrets it. Which kind of makes it worse. 

“Oh man. She wasn’t kissing you like she had someone else. You must have some sick game.” Cassie steps on my chest and leans her face in closer to mine. She’s applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure to my ribs. 

“I wish. She’s got more game than an arcade. All I’ve got is a hopeless crush on an undead monster.” I have to struggle against Cassie’s weight to get air back into my lungs. 

“That’s a little more believable.” She smiles and grinds her heel into me. “That crush you have on little Blair? Did she tell you why you have it?” 

“Her… blood…” I wheeze out. 

“Good guess.” Cassie stomps down, forcing my breath out through my clenched teeth. “But it’s not that strong. Not the first drink. One or two more and you’ll be her helpless love slave. Completely enthralled.” She lifts her foot off me and paces toward the small kitchen area. “Certainly the first sip creates an attachment. You’d have a hard time saying ‘no’ to her if she asked nice enough. But, then, that would have been the case beforehand.” 

“Wha..?” I’m happy to be breathing easily again, but I also want to know where this is going. 

“You had a crush on my little Blair-bear before you ever tasted her blood. It’s written all over your face every time you look at her. So tell her. It should be easy. You’re shitfaced and bound by her blood. Tell her you couldn’t stop thinking about her after that first night. How her blood made that feeling just a little bit stronger. Reminded you a little more often about your little kiddie crush.” Wherever Cassie is going with this, she’s taking sadistic glee in it. 

There’s basically no way Alex and Lydia aren’t still listening at the door. I can’t really play games with them still in striking range. I look up at Blair, at least I don’t have to lie, not really. “She’s not wrong. Your face was seared into my brain the moment I stabbed you on that night. Of course, that was about three days ago so take it as you will.” 

“Cassie…” Blair still looks concerned for me. “Please just let it go. Coming here is just going to make it harder for him. Haven’t we done enough?” 

Cassie is digging through my cabinet. I crane my neck to see her and catch her grabbing a glass and rinsing it out in the sink. “Blair, sweetie, you are my precious childe. But as your sire I’m held partially accountable for your choices. So when you go creating a ghoul, with hardly an idea what that even means, I have to deal with the situation.” 

“You aren’t going to kill them are you?” Blair looks horrified. I probably don’t look too thrilled myself. 

“I haven’t decided about the girls yet. You’ve been good though. So I’ll let you keep your little pet after I leash him.” Cassie is back to standing over me. She’s gotten a knife from somewhere. I’m scared. 

Blair and I watch as she cuts into her wrist, letting her thick, dark blood ooze into the glass. It’s so dark it’s nearly black. It suits her. Once the cup contains a satisfactory level of fluid she licks her wrist, the wound sealing up as her tongue moves over it. She steps over me and drops down to straddle my stomach. She’s not too gentle about it either, knocking the wind out of me briefly. 

“Mmm, it’s good to be on top.” Cassie purrs. I find it hard to appreciate the innuendo, coming as it does from the twelve year old girl lounging on me. Not that I think she’s anywhere near twelve. Not by a long shot. “What do you think Blair, should we play with him a little?” She leans in and murmurs in my ear. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been fucked in so long my-“ 

“Cassie, please!” Blair shouts. 

Cassie jerks upright. “Fine. I’ll let it go tonight. But if you think I won’t play with your toys eventually…” 

“Ugh, just do whatever you need to do and let’s go. I’m sick of watching you treat people like this…” Blair is looking down and away. She’s been sounding increasingly distressed this whole time. I don’t blame her. I’m feeling distressed too. 

“Alright Blair-bear, we’ll leave as soon as I get a kiss goodbye.” Cassie forces my mouth open with her free hand and knocks back the glass containing her blood. Only she doesn’t swallow, she sets the glass aside and leans in over my face. A stray drop of blood drips from her lips into my mouth. It’s delicious. My heart skips a beat. She presses her lips to mine and forces a mouthful of blood into me. 

The coppery taste fills my mouth, overwhelming my taste buds. There’s something else too. A sweetness. Something more than a flavor. Despite my struggling I still swallow a small amount. I can feel it running down my throat. When it hits my stomach I feel a burst of warmth. Like the first shot of the night, but better. 

Cassie is stirring the sweet, coppery mess in my mouth with her tongue. I feel her finger stroking my throat, trying to gently coax me into swallowing. Blair is standing stock still, the bottom half of her face hidden behind her hands. 

The warmth of that first small dose is spreading through me. I can feel my heartrate increasing. I can’t resist any more. What should have been the mildly pleasant taste of copper in my mouth has become a harmony of saccharine sweetness and bitter metal tang. Mixing into beautiful ambrosia and overwhelming me. I swallow. 

Her blood hits my stomach like a bomb. Energy and warmth rush through me. I can feel the alcohol burning out of my system only to be replaced by a different, stronger, buzz. I feel like I just mainlined a mix of epinephrine and caffeine. I feel _good_. 

When the surge of endorphins finally dies down I realize I’m eagerly sucking at Cassie’s mouth. Trying to scrape it clean of every last drop of blood. I recoil in horror. Cassie just laughs. “Damn, you weren’t kissing the other girl like that. I must be special.” She wipes her mouth on her sleeve. “Don’t feel too bad when I leave. I’ll be coming back for some more of that.” 

Cassie stands up and turns to Blair, “All done. Just needed to make sure he’s pliant enough to be getting on with.” 

I find myself wishing Blair had fed me _that_ way. 

“So that’s it? He’s just our pet, forever?” Blair asks, incredulous. 

Cassie looks at Blair like she just asked the stupidest question in history. “Uh, yeah. Until you get bored of him anyways. We can’t just leave him wandering around all willy-nilly knowing what he knows.” 

That reminds me. “What about my friends?” 

Cassie freezes for a second and looks at the door. “Well, you’re a pretty good kisser so… fuck it. They get to live as long as they don’t let anything slip. If they _do_ let anything slip I get to hunt them both down and work them over with a tire iron. So tell them to keep things under wraps.” 

I sigh in relief. That’s a better deal than I expected. Cassie walks over to the window and Blair moves to follow. Cassie holds out her hand though. “Nope, Blair-bear, I’m going ahead. You’re going to stay here and feed. I don’t care from who, as long as you come back in a state other than ‘starving yourself into a frenzy’.” 

Cassie slips out the window and disappears into the deepening shadows. Blair just stands there looking lost. I hear the door creak open and Alex and Lydia step back into the room looking… I don’t know what they look like. Apprehensive maybe. Blair turns to look at them and frowns. They see her and kind of frown too. 

I offer up an icebreaker. “Welp. Looks like you’re the only one who hasn’t had a drink yet. Why don’t you just grab whatever looks good?” 

They don’t laugh. Neither do I. The room is quiet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jfc Cassie, half your age plus seven.


	9. Drinking Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Introductions, Girl On Girl, Love Bites

I take advantage of the silence to stand up and dust myself off. Nobody acknowledges the movement. I keep hoping Alex will crack a joke or something. But it just stays quiet. I’m glad I don’t have an analog clock. The ticking would drive me to madness. 

This has gone way too long. “Look. I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Lysander, call me Liz, and,” I sweep my hand to indicate the others, “these are Alex and Lydia.” 

That seems to lift the spell a little. Blair takes my offered hand. Her hand is covered by her jacket sleeve but she still shakes mine lightly. “I’m Blair.” She lets go and waves nervously to the girls. “Hi.” 

Lydia acknowledges her with a nod. “Hello.” 

Alex doesn’t bother. She jumps straight to the chase. “Did you really beat up Liz? Did he put up a fight at all? Or did he just take it?” 

Blair stares at Alex for a second before turning to me. Unspoken questions are written across her face. I shrug. I have no answers. She turns back to Alex, “He… stabbed me. After that he didn’t really stand a chance. I’m pretty strong… a lot stronger than I should be.” Blair looks away in embarrassment. 

Alex seems to recognize this. “Ah. Yeah. Sorry… I’m just curious.” 

Lydia is a little more serious. “I’m curious too. What did that other girl do to Liz?” 

Blair looks back up at Lydia. “Cassie? She fed him her blood. Like I did. Now she has a hold on him.” 

Lydia nods and continues. “Just once? Why not more like she was talking about?” 

Blair shakes her head, “Cassie is hard to understand. She probably wants him to be able to tell her ‘no’. So she can punish him.” She shrugs. “Or maybe she just wants a connection before she leaves him to me to handle.” 

Lydia turns to me. “So are you attracted to her now?” 

I think about it. Trying to picture Cassie in my mind. It’s not the same. She repulses me. But there’s a feeling of respect. She’s disgusting, but I’m positively inclined towards her anyways. “No. It’s not the same. My feelings about her are all mixed up. Is this what it’s like to be frenemies?” 

Alex titters at that. Blair looks at me and nods. “It doesn’t get any better as you get to know her. She pushes you away, and the blood pulls you right back.” 

“You drank her blood too?” That surprises me a little. 

Blair looks back at the window. “Yeah. That’s how you turn someone. You drain them dry and replace their blood with a bit of your own.” 

Alex has another question though. “Did he really kiss the kid?” 

I gag at the memory. 

Blair’s head snaps back around to look at Alex. “She didn’t give him a choice. She’s older and stronger than me.” 

I’m suddenly curious. “How old _are_ you?” 

“Liz!” Alex butts in before Blair can say anything. “You can’t just ask a girl her age.” 

I ignore her. Blair looks away again and crosses her arm over her chest to fiddle with her other sleeve. It’s frustrating how cute she can be without even trying. “I’m twenty-three. I’ve only been a… been like this for a few months.” 

“Oh, wow.” I feel bad for her. “That’s not very long. No wonder you’re so… Never mind.” 

She tugs at her sleeve absentmindedly. “Weak? Useless? Bad at being a vampire? Don’t worry. Cassie makes sure I know.” 

Ouch. I wince. “I was going to say, “Uncomfortable.”” 

She looks at her feet. “Oh. Yeah. I feel like a monster. All the time.” 

Alex groans. “This is painful.” 

Lydia shushes her and looks to Blair. “You don’t act like one.” She says comfortingly. 

Blair mutters to herself and kicks the carpet. She looks back up. “Liz said that too, last night. But it doesn’t matter, I still think like one. I want to hurt people and drink their blood. I want to go berserk and tear everything apart just to feel something again.” 

I laugh a little. Blair stares at me. “Sorry. It’s just. I feel that way too. All the time. Right now even. I want Cassie’s blood again. But I don’t want her to give it to me.” I growl in the back of my throat. “I want to rip it out of her and gorge on it while she screams.” 

“It’s true, he used to cut himself just to taste blood. He probably got off on it.” Alex adds, making an exaggerated gross out face. 

Lydia looks back down to her feet. But I catch a small smile, “Some of that is the vampire blood. It influences more than your feelings about us. Cassie explained some of it after I told her what I did.” 

“It’s pretty inspiring how much control you have. But you can let go a little. You don’t need to feel guilty about _eating_.” I try to reassure her. “We all do it. Hell, I eat meat all the time and we have to _kill_ to get that. What’s a little blood between friends?” 

Lydia chimes in, “Is it wrong if he wants you to do it? It sounds like even with your blood affecting him he could still say ‘No’.” 

“Are we really trying to talk a vampire into drinking Liz’s blood? Is this real? Am _I_ real?” Alex throws her hands up and slumps into my desk chair. 

Blair raises her head. There’s a determined look on her face. “You’re sure?” She asks as she looks into my eyes. 

I smile. “You bet. Do it.” 

She doesn’t lunge at me this time. She calmly closes the distance between us without breaking eye contact. God her eyes are blue. She slides her hand up the side of my face into my hair. With a firm grip she gently pulls my head to the side and leans into my neck. I can feel her breath, cool and lifeless, against my skin. A shiver rolls down my spine. 

Softly, I feel her lips press against me. She spreads her mouth wide and I feel them. Her fangs against me. Two pin pricks and suddenly I’m lost in bliss. The cold pain of life leaving my body weaves with pure pleasure into a blanket of ecstasy that muffles my senses. The pain is different this time around. I can feel the blood rushing out of me rapidly. She’s not going slow this time, not dragging it out to savor the experience. 

I’m disappointed when she pulls out. The pleasure hadn’t lasted nearly long enough. She leans back in to lick my neck. The sting of her bite fading away. 

She backs up and wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “That’s all I can take without hurting you. Do you feel alright?” 

I might feel a little drained. It’s hard to tell through the aftereffects of her bite. Plus I’m still wacked out on vampire blood. That shit is fantastic. “I’m good. You still hungry?” 

Before Blair can respond Alex spins around in the chair and raises her hand. “Me next. Dibs.” 

“What?” The rest of us ask in unison. 

Alex looks around at our surprised faces. “What? Did you _see_ the look on his face? Waiter, I’ll have what _he’s_ having.” 

I look at Lydia. Blair looks at everyone. Lydia looks at Alex, “Are you sure babe? We don’t know if…” 

Alex waves off her concern. “You were willing to throw Liz to the bats three minutes ago.” 

Lydia still looks worried. “Yeah, but he… He was… Okay. Fine. Do what you want.” 

Alex spins to look at Blair. “Hit me, sweet fangs.” 

Blair frowns. “Do I get any say in this?” 

Alex frowns. “Of course. But where are you going to find two willing beauties eager to be ravished by your bite?” 

“Hey! I never-“ Lydia starts. 

Alex cuts her off. “Other beauty, sweetie.” 

I sigh. Blair walks up to Alex, a lot more hesitantly than she had to me. Alex smiles and presents her neck, “Don’t be shy, I’m pretty tough.” 

Blair looks back at me and Lydia. We nod. She leans in and bites Alex. 

Alex goes a little limp. Her face is a little vacant, her mind lost in the sensation. She digs her nails into Blair’s back, trying to pull her closer. Blair takes a little longer with Alex than she did with me. I’m a little jealous. Considering how she’d acted back the first time she drank from me though, I think she feels just as much pleasure from the act as we do. Maybe more. It must be hard to resist the temptation to just keep going. Blair is leaning on Alex to balance herself as she leans into Alex’s neck. Her fingers are pressed into Alex’s thighs. 

As Blair finishes I turn to Lydia. “Did I look that stupid?” 

Lydia’s eyes widen for a second, surprised at my voice. “Oh. Yeah. You looked pretty dumb.” 

“I was afraid of that.” I sigh. 

Blair and Alex shake free from the fog and stare at each other. 

“Are you okay Alex?” Lydia’s voice is filled with concern. 

Alex responds enthusiastically, “I’m fantastic. You’ve got to try it and tell me if that’s what sex feels like for you!” 

I shake my head slowly. “She sounds fine to me.” 

Blair straightens up and looks at Lydia. There’s a glint of hunger in her eyes. I think Lydia sees it too. “Go ahead. All the cool kids seem to be doing it.” 

Blair nods and pounces at Lydia. The suddenness of the motion startles Lydia but she cocks her head to the side, granting Blair access. Blair eagerly accepts. Burying herself in the crook of Lydia’s neck and moaning happily. 

I’m close enough to Lydia to see her pupils snap open as Blair’s fangs break her skin. She exhales slowly into Blair’s ear with a soft groan. Blair presses against Lydia, seeking closer physical contact as she gulps down her blood. Lydia’s arms slide around Blair’s waist and hug her tight. I almost choke in surprise as her hands slide to Blair’s ass and squeeze. I know that, in theory, Lydia is physically affectionate with Alex. But actually seeing Lydia ‘The Man Eater’ Myers groping on a girl is causing some serious cognitive dissonance. 

When Blair eventually pulls away from Lydia’s neck and tries to step back she’s stopped by Lydia’s tight grip on her. She looks at Lydia and Lydia just stares into her eyes with a vacant smile. Slowly the spell lifts and Lydia realizes what she’s doing. She jumps back and yelps like she just stepped on something sharp. 

Alex and I laugh, hard. Lydia glares at us. Blair just looks confused. I explain. “Sorry. I don’t think Lydia’s been that close to another girl that wasn’t Alex. She’s so straight we use her to level pictures.” 

Lydia splutters, “I never claimed to be… I just… What’s wrong if I get a little into a heavy blood drinking session? I can touch a girl without the gods of heterosexuality smiting me from heaven!” 

I raise my hands and try to placate her. “No one’s making fun of you Lydia. We were just surprised is all.” 

Alex jumps in. “Yeah. ‘Cuz the last time I saw you pawing at someone’s ass like that was when you convinced the art class’s male model to go clubbing with you!” 

“Uh. I’m cool with it. It can be a little overwhelming. No worries.” Blair says quietly. 

“Thanks.” Lydia says, gratefully. 

“Well, tell us how it was!” Alex is actually, physically bouncing in my chair. 

Lydia starts to say something. But her face flushes and she looks away suddenly. She tries again. “It was… nice. I can see why you’d think ‘sex’. It was definitely,” Lydia clears her throat, “sexy. Not quite the same though. Better in some ways, but I think I prefer the sex. The bite feels a little unnatural. It’s off putting.” 

“Well, you would know.” Alex nods and turns to Blair. “Hey. How does it make _you_ feel?” 

“I think it’s better than sex. Even when I was alive. Dead it still has its charms, but the taste of blood, the feel of it pumping into my mouth… I’m not good enough with words to describe it. It’s just so _good_.” Surprisingly, Blair doesn’t seem shy about this particular subject. Maybe drinking beyond bare subsistence is improving her mood. 

Alex turns her attention to me. “You okay there Liz? You’ve been spaced out for a while.” 

I nod. “Yeah. I’m cool. Just listening.” 

“You still thinking about Lydia being all over her too?” Alex makes a happy noise. Something close to a purr. 

If I hadn’t, and I had, I would be now. “I have respect for other people’s boundaries. Alex.” 

“I don’t.” Alex feels the need to state the obvious. “Be careful Blair. These two are crafty. Eventually they’ll want more than a little bite every once in a while.” 

The irony of Alex warning that someone _else_ is dangerously crafty almost gives me a headache. 

Blair looks from me, to Lydia, and back. “I think I’ll risk it. It would be nice not to have to feel so bad every time I eat. If you guys are still interested in… it.” Blair looks at the floor. Damn, she been going strong. 

I nod vigorously. “You know I am.” 

Alex smiles, “If you promise to take care of Liz. Give him water and take him on walks or whatever.” 

Lydia still isn’t looking at anyone. “It’s… uh… yeah… I’m in if they are.” 

“Thank you. You’re all too nice. You’re probably going to get hurt.” Blair turns to leave and I think I catch a tear sliding down her cheek. But she’s out the window and gone before I can be sure. 

We all stare at the window in silence. Minutes pass. 

“Lydia has class tomorrow.” Alex says. 

“True.” Lydia agrees. 

“I’ll see you guys around then?” I ask. 

“Yep.” Alex and Lydia answer. 

“Cool.” I watch as they sort of meander out the door. 

I walk over and twist the lock. The click of the bolt sliding into place doesn’t make me feel as safe as it used to. 

I flop into my bed. I don’t feel like undressing. Or cleaning up the booze on my counter. Alex and Lydia had left their own bottles behind. Oh well. If they want them back they’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I roll over to shield my eyes from the light I left on. This world is too strange to keep awake in. Maybe my dreams will provide some grounding. I drift off to sleep. 

My dreams aren’t much better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lydia, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	10. Of All The Gin In All My Fridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Light Bondage, Explicit Sex, Confessions
> 
> The content warning does not lie. There is explicit sex in this chapter. But, lo and behold, it's skippable. If you're uncomfortable reading explicit sex then just stop reading when you reach the end of your comfort level. Knowing that the sex happened is sufficient to understand the story.

My fingers are numb. My hands hurt. I can’t feel my ears. These facts mean something. But my mind is too sluggish to grasp what that meaning might be. I crack my eye open. Room looks normal. The light’s still on. The window’s still open. A cloud of mist obscures my vision for a second. Then another one a few seconds later. It seems tied to my breathing. I can see my breath. I snap awake. It’s freezing in here. 

Five minutes later I’m swaddled in my thickest blanket, nursing a cup of microwaved hot chocolate. I need to call about that window. No time like the present in fact. Getting my phone is a trial by ice but I manage to grab it and get back into bed with minimal exposure. Negotiating with the landlord is a much greater task. I eventually secure a promise to have the window replaced by the weekend. Not optimal, but I can throw something over it in the meantime. 

The thought of covering the window feels wrong though. I’m sure Blair, and probably Cassie too, will find some other way to get to me, but still. 

Blair… Last night was a trip. I’m still tingling from Cassie’s blood. Or the beginning of frostbite. Seeing someone else getting fed on had been interesting. It made me glad Blair can’t see my face from my throat. Seeing Blair feed on Lydia was its own special trip. 

But that reminds me. The appearance of the vampires had overshadowed the rest of that party. But there was still one memory that stuck out and refused to go away. Lydia had kissed me. Actually, that wasn’t quite right. We’d _kissed_ at that fateful party. It had been nice, but like I said, it hadn’t led anywhere. Last night she tried to wipe my brain clean with her tongue. She really had shocked my mind away from Blair. I still can’t figure out why she did it, though. She knows I don’t want to fool around. 

Or do I? Maybe she knows something I don’t. I’ve certainly been warming up to her. Ever since I felt that brief spark at the hospital. Then came the vampire blood. Blair had been all I could think about for most of the day. But then Lydia joked about making out with me and I got defensive. More than I usually would have. Was I afraid of a _kiss_? After last night I’m not sure I shouldn’t have been. Damn vampires are ruining my social life. 

I make another call to take my mind off the subject. I need to authorize a transfer of some medical records to my employer and score some paid leave due to my recent arm wrecking. It takes two hours and twelve calls. I’d considered jerking off, something I’ve been prevented from doing for days, in between conversations. It hadn’t seemed worth it at the time. In hindsight I question that decision. I decide to take a cold shower instead. 

I grab a towel and some clothes and head for the group showers. I hate them, of course. I’m not a social creature. The presence of strange human beings in close proximity is a disruption. Naked proximity is a dozen times worse for some reason. Nobody is here though. I must have missed the morning rush. While that leaves the showers mercifully empty, it also means negligible remaining hot water. 

By the time I step out of the water I’m pretty sure my lips are blue. On the upside, the cold water has definitely helped me ‘cool off’ a little. I towel dry and suit up. I have a whole day ahead of me, full of wonder and opportunity. I set out to patch up my window. I end up on the computer playing games. 

My phone rings. I’m disinclined to answer it, as I’ve just conquered the Iberian Peninsula and am poised to bend the rest of medieval Europe over the proverbial barrel. But it could be more medical stuff. Or my landlord. I look at the caller I.D. It’s Lydia. 

I answer it, “Hey girlfriend, what’s the haps?” 

“Your obituary if you say ‘haps’ to me ever again.” Ouch, not amused. 

“Sorry, not sorry. What can I help you with?” I pause my game before my mighty armies can suffer defeat at the hands of the wily A.I. 

“It’s about last night, Liz. I…” She trails off. 

I think I know what this is about. “Oh god. Lydia. I’m sorry I said anything. I really wasn’t trying to make fun of you.” 

“I’m so- What?” I may have missed the mark. “This isn’t about what happened with… Blair or whoever. I’m apologizing for kissing you. I shouldn’t have. Especially when you were so drunk.” 

I’d almost managed to forget about that since this morning. But here’s Lydia, reopening that can of worms for me. I get that she needs some closure, she sounds like this has been bothering her for a while, but I’d be happier just moving on. 

“Lydia… It’s fine. You weren’t exactly the picture of sobriety yourself.” I try to soothe her. 

“No, Liz, it’s not ‘fine’.” I can picture her shaking her head. “If some guy had done that to me I would have beat his skull in.” 

I’m not sure what to say to that. She has a point. “Apology accepted then. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m not mad or anything.” 

Lydia sighs into the phone. “I feel like you should be though. I keep pressing your boundaries and you just sidestep me and act like it’s nothing. This time it wasn’t just a boundary press, and you weren’t in a position to shut me down.” 

This conversation is getting frustrating. Mostly because Lydia isn’t _wrong_. Her pushiness over the years hasn’t bothered me. I always assumed it was just a prolonged game of teasing me for not hooking up when I had the chance. I’d have teased me too. But now she seems to be implying there’s something more to it than just messing with me. Why would she feel the need to bring it up if there wasn’t? 

Either way, this is getting uncomfortable. “We’re friends. We push each other’s buttons. Plus you have Alex egging you on every step of the way. Besides, my signals have been a little mixed lately.” 

I hear her phone moving and hear an angry vocalization in the distance. The phone moves again and Lydia’s voice comes back. “Goddammit Liz. Alex wasn’t ‘egging me on’ last night. You know she doesn’t actually want to force us together, right? I know she’s kind of aggressive, but she doesn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. She just thinks she knows what you want better than you do.” She pauses for a second to breath before continuing. “And what’s this shit about mixed signals? I teased you about the look you gave me in the hospital. But you were high on painkillers. That doesn’t constitute a signal, Liz.” 

What the hell? She’s acting like she molested me at a frat party or something. I wish I could see what’s going on her head. 

I want to beat my head into my desk until any of this makes sense, but the sound would definitely carry through to the phone. “Fine, Lydia, if that’s how you’re going to be then fuck it. Come on over. You can take a few shots and I’ll make out with _you_ and we can call it even. Alright?” 

That solution is not going to fly. Because it’s not a solution. It’s a signal that I want to stop talking, and thinking, about this. 

“The fuck? That’s not-“ I hang up on her mid outburst. 

For a moment I feel bad about snapping at her. It doesn’t last though. Whatever damage she thinks that kiss did to me or our friendship, this stupid argument is doing a lot more. I un-pause my game and commit myself to the task of burning Christian Europe to the ground. I’ll show them a fucking crusade. 

I’m balls deep in France when someone knocks on my door. I realize Lydia never called me back. I answer the door and, sure enough, it’s Lydia. I gesture to my chair as I walk to the kitchen. I almost don’t believe she came. Did she want to rehash the argument we just had? Because my feelings haven’t changed. They’re just as frustratingly confused as before. 

“Sorry about the temperature, I haven’t had a chance to patch the window today.” I apologize, lying blatantly. 

She looks at the game running on my computer. “I can see that.” 

I pull a bottle at random out of the fridge, gin I think, and pour a glass. Lydia watches. “If that’s for me you really don’t need to. I just came to talk.” 

Talk about what? We talked on the phone. What’s her game? 

“Nope, this is for me.” I take a sip from the glass, it’s gin. “ _This_ is for you.” I wave the bottle and toss it to her. 

I know my game. If I have to play her until she spells it out for me, I will. 

“Liz, I said-“ She starts. 

I interrupt. “Nope. Remember that old drinking game where you had to take a drink every time you said something?” 

She rolls her eyes. But she still takes a sip before talking. “What are you trying to accomplish here?” 

I sip from my glass. “Well. I’m hoping by the time this conversation is over you’ll be at least a little more reasonable.” 

She starts to respond but catches herself and takes another drink first. “Reasonable? You hung up on me and are now making me play a drinking game just to talk to you!” 

Talking’s a free action. She’s choosing to play along. Why? 

I take another sip. “Good. Good. Give into your anger.” 

She takes another drink, more like a swig, and yells, “Liz you bastard! This isn’t the time for your referential bullshit!” 

I take a proper drink. “Excellent. We’re making progress. I’m going to need you to really let go though.” 

She takes another long drink from the bottle. “Why are you doing this Liz?” 

She sounds like she’s about to cry. Or rip my head off. Is this going too far? 

I finish the glass. “Because you’re mad at me for not being mad at you. That’s fucking stupid.” 

She takes two drinks before responding. “I feel like a monster, Liz. Like vampire girl.” 

Why does she feel so bad about that fucking kiss? 

I walk over and grab the bottle from her. I take a drink and hand it back. “Then I’ll tell you what we told her. You don’t act like one.” 

She drinks. “That’s the point! I _am_ acting like one!” 

Act _ing_? Is this not about the kiss? 

I snatch the bottle up. It hadn’t been _that_ full when we started, but this game has not been healthy. I finish it off and set it on my desk. “It was a _kiss_ , Lydia. It was inappropriate, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m not going to need therapy to get over the time a pretty girl I like kissed me without asking.” 

“Isn’t that the problem Liz? That I’m the girl you liked but didn’t want to fool around with?” She turns away. “I respected the hell out of you for that, by the way.” 

I groan in frustration. “Lydia. I’m not so fragile that I’m going to go to pieces because you kissed me. You’re amazing and just having you as a friend is enough, even one that kissed me once under questionable circumstances.” 

I’m not being completely honest. I _am_ going to pieces right now. Not because of the kiss though. Because Lydia is hinting at something just out of my grasp and it’s driving me crazy. 

“So that’s it then? You’re over me? Just friends, forever?” Lydia is still looking away. 

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. 

“You can’t… You don’t… What about Alex?” I can’t manage anything but sentence fragments. 

She looks back to me. “Finally figuring it out? That my little ‘jokes’ maybe aren’t so innocent? That I use them as a smokescreen to distract myself and everyone else from what I really feel?” 

This is way too heavy for me. My best friend is, somewhat drunkenly, confessing to hiding feelings about me for… years probably. 

I don’t say anything. Even if I could think of a response I’m too stunned to actually speak. She continues, “I still love Alex, of course. You said it yourself once, no force in the ‘verse could come between us. This might though. It feels like such a betrayal. Of her trust, of your trust, and of my own values. I’m a monster Liz. A big, dumb, stompy one. Just call me Lydiazilla, Destroyer of Friendships.” 

A tear runs down her cheek. She’s crying. I know what she wants. She _wants_ to be rejected. For me to throw her out so she can wallow in her guilt for a while and eventually move on. I think everyone’s been there at some point. But I’m not letting it go down that way. Because getting over someone doesn’t always mean forgetting your feelings. Sometimes you just set them aside until you don’t notice them anymore. But they’re back now though. Still burning like the day I shelved them. 

I lean forward and rest my hands on the armrests of the chair. My goal had been to lean over her, but even sitting down Lydia was almost at eye level with me. “If you want to be called a monster you’re going to have to do a lot worse than one kiss.” 

She grabs at my chest, twisting her fists up in my shirt and yanking me forward into a kiss. It doesn’t go very deep, just lips against lips, but it’s very forceful. She pushes me away. “You, Lysander Amius Williams, are an absolute bastard.” Her voice is angry, but the tears are gone from her eyes. 

I probably am a bastard. Probably a monster too. I could still stop this, my conscience reminds me. No. Alcohol and vampire blood are hammering through my veins. Urging me on. Some mistakes cry out to be made. 

“My bastarddom was never in question. Indeed, it was prophesied centuries before my birth. You’re the one on trial, Lydia.” I smirk. “Is little Lydia May Myers the twisted monster she thinks she is? Or just a flirtatious nymph whose discretion evaporates after too many drinks?” 

“I hope to god you aren’t teasing me Liz. Because I’m going to fuck you, and it’s going to be a lot easier on you if you want it.” She whispers, barely audible. I can’t break her gaze. All I can think of is how I once described Lydia as a spider. Venom and razor wire. 

I try to say something, anything. Something to provoke her. Something stupid. To cry out that I’m long past teasing. I don’t know and I don’t get to find out. She presses a finger to my lips as soon as I start to move them. Her other hand is on my chest, pushing me back as she stands up. Flat footed, Lydia is a little over an inch taller than me. Her typical school outfit includes short heels. I can’t escape the feeling I’m beneath her in more ways than one. My heart is racing. 

She draws her finger up the center of my face to my hairline. She presses the rest of her fingers into my scalp and twists my hair around them. Her arm settles over my shoulder and her wrist brushes against my ear as she positions herself to pull my head back. She’s forcing me to look up into her eyes and I can’t twist away. 

Her other hand is stroking my chest. She leans in to kiss me. This one goes deep almost immediately, but I’m not any less sober than her this time. I fight back, our tongues twisting in an oral sparring match. Her hand traces the contour of my chest down to my stomach. She hums into my mouth as her hand slides lower. When she starts to undo my belt I start and try to pull my head back. She lets me move half an inch before sucking my bottom lip into my mouth and biting down until I squeal. 

I can taste my blood leaking into my mouth, the coppery flavor overwhelming the taste of Lydia. She let’s go of my hair and steps back, taking my belt with her. I’m panting. “That hurt.” 

Lydia just smiles. “I’m sorry, were looking for the nymph? Because I _swear_ you were almost _begging_ for the monster.” 

I moan softly. “It hurt _good_.” 

She reaches out and takes my hand. I let her gently pull it towards her. She yanks, spinning me around. The movement reminds me that I drank a lot more than I should have. I feel her grab my other hand and twist both arms back behind me. She wraps something around my wrists. As she cinches it tight I realize it’s my belt. 

“I’ve _dreamed_ of tying you up, you know.” She admires her handiwork. “With more than a belt. But this will have to do for now.” 

She drags me backwards and dumps me onto my bed. I hear her moving and raise my head to look. She’s pulling her sweater up over her head. It’s a great view. 

People talk up big tits, thick butts, and broad curves all the time, like they’re the end-all be-all of sex appeal. In rebuttal to that, I offer Lydia. A sex goddess painted with a narrow brush. She’s slender and narrow. She does have curves, but they’re subtle, gently sloping into each other. I don’t play the cup size guessing game with breasts. By way of description I’d say that on anyone else they wouldn’t be winning any wet T-shirt contests. Her stomach is more toned than I remember, I think I remember her talking about doing some training with Alex. MMA Alex. I don’t have a rear view from my position on the bed but I’m willing to bet her ass looks better too, and it looked pretty good before. 

Her sweater is off now and I can see the contours of shoulders. Combined with the soft sweep of her hips I could write a dissertation on the way her limbs connect to her body. It wouldn’t help with any degree I’ve considered but I think the research would be worth doing. 

“What was that about research?” Lydia asks, kicking off her shoes. 

My train of thought derails at the question, “I, uh, was thinking I should write a dissertation on your hips?” How much of that had I thought aloud? 

“Kinky. You’ll have to write small though.” Her skirt hits the ground, followed by her underwear. 

She’d worn a matching set, black with some red rose detailing. She’d been planning on getting laid at _some_ point today. Probably to take her mind off me, I realize. 

She crawls onto the bed and straddles me. Her hands press into the bed behind and to either side of my head. Black hair drapes onto my face, I can’t brush it away. 

“So this is how it’s going to be? I can look, but I can’t touch?” I try to see her face through her hair. 

“Not quite, Lizzie. You’re going to be touching.” Her hair pulls out of my face as she leans back and shifts forwards. “You just don’t get to use your hands.” 

It takes a little wriggling but she finally has my head between her legs. I can see her face now, she’s got the smile of a sadist, but there’s a lot of very sexy body between hers and mine. I notice her legs aren’t the only shaving she’s done today. 

“Come on Lizzie,” she settles forward, pressing herself against the bottom half of my face, “if you don’t get going I’ll get bored. Then I might have to make you play _my_ drinking game.” She smiles wickedly. 

I hope she’s not implying what I think she is. I start working her over with my tongue. Normally I’d work up to it a little. Start with some easy stuff, thigh nibbling for instance, and work up to the main event. But Lydia’s thighs are not in easy reach, they are in fact holding my head so firmly in place that I’d be hard pressed to tackle anything _but_ the main event. 

She shifts her pelvis down about an inch or so and grinds against me. “Come on Liz, I’m slick enough just from playing with you. Go for the gold already.” 

I press my tongue against her clit and circle it slowly. 

She hisses and works her fingers into my hair again. “There you go Lizzie. Just like that.” 

I take the encouragement and keep going. It’s tricky finding a balance between keeping a steady pattern and not getting too repetitive. 

She grabs my head with her other hand and pulls my head forward. At this point she’s just fucking herself on my face. “Aw fuck, Lizzie! You’re doing great. Just keep going for a little longer…” 

I’m not even doing anything, beyond trying to keep my tongue somewhere in the vicinity of her clitoris, anymore. She seems pretty happy though. She’s been pretty quiet but now she’s starting to vocalize a bit. Lydia doesn’t do cute little gasps and whining noises. She pants heavily and growls from somewhere deep inside of her. Also, she swears. She’s swearing a lot now. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Lizzie you, fuck, magnificent bastard. I am, fuck, about to _fucking_ blow all over your, fuck, stupid, smarmy, fuck, face. How do you fucking feel about _that_?” 

Pretty good, actually. I mumble something at random because I think she wants the stimulation. She just about rips my hair out as she suddenly tightens her grip and bucks and against my face. She throws her head back and _screams_ a chain of profanities. I am both embarrassed and the most aroused I think I’ve ever been in my life. 

She finally calms down enough to roll off and sprawl out on the bed next to me. 

“Still mad?” I ask. 

“Not really. Doesn’t mean I’m letting you off easy though.” She rests her head on my shoulder and starts to stroke my thigh through my pants. “I think you’ve earned a reward.” 

She slides off the bed and kneels in front of me. I have to crane my neck to see what’s going on. She undoes my fly and slides my pants down to my ankles. Her hands glide back up my legs to my hips, caressing the inside of my thighs on the way. The front of my briefs is protruding conspicuously. 

She moves a hand to trace the bulge. “Look at that. I’m disappointed Liz. I thought you were a much bigger dick.” 

I’m chewing my lip at the sensation of unfamiliar fingers on me. “Call me whatever names you want, just don’t stop.” 

She giggles and rubs her palm up and down my erection. “You sound like you’re going to get off just from getting rubbed through your underwear.” 

“I blame the show you put on.” It really had been a show. 

She yanks my underwear down roughly and wraps a hand around my dick. “Show? I know what you mean, but try not to make it sound like I thought you were worth faking an orgasm for.” 

She’s grinning devilishly as she starts to slowly stroke me up and down. I moan a little and she picks up the pace. 

It feels a little too good though. “Hey. Watch it, I’m gonna…” 

She stops short and frowns at me. “Already? Christ Liz.” 

“I haven’t so much as _touched_ myself in almost a week. An almost week of vampire bites and blood drinking. Cut me some slack why don’t you?” Seriously. I’m only human. Mostly. Mostly human. 

She pretends to think for a moment. “No.” 

She bounces to her feet and turns around, reaching back to grab my dick. With no ceremony whatsoever, and a level of accuracy I don’t quite believe, she sits down square on my cock. Taking me in one smooth motion. She groans. I suck air through clenched teeth. 

She flexes a few _very_ interesting muscles whose names escape me at the moment. She looks back over her shoulder. “There you go Liz, fire at will!” 

I bite my lip to distract myself. The entry had been so sudden that I hadn’t really gotten to enjoy it. But just having her _around_ me is amazing. She won’t stop showing off her internal control. My thoughts are racing. I’m having sex with Lydia. Finally accepting a five year old offer. I can’t quite accept the reality of the situation. 

“Mmm, I don’t even need to fuck you do I?” She bears down and wiggles her hips. 

“Fuck!” That’s all I can take. My building orgasm erupts. A wash of heat blooms through me and I lose focus for a second. Then Lydia starts yelling. More profanities. She’s arched backwards over me. It hits me, she’s going off too. I’m twitching in her, she’s squeezing me like a vice. I’m swearing in whispers, she’s yelling blasphemies at god. For a few seconds things are practically perfect in every way. 

I calm down before she does, but she isn’t far behind. I feel myself slip out of her as she lays back on top of me. I go to put my arms around her but arms are still tied behind my back. I’d forgotten about that. 

“You were making fun of _me_ for getting off easy.” I tease. 

“The first one takes a little work, but after that you can set me off with a strong breeze.” She says. “The difference between you and I is, I don’t need ten minutes in between.” 

Ten is being generous. 

I hear an alarm go off. Lydia sits back up. “Ugh. Class again.” 

She slides off of me and gets to her feet. I notice she’s a little shaky as she digs around for her phone and silences her alarm. She starts getting dressed. “Sorry Liz, I have to get going. Thanks for a good time.” 

I’m a little worried about her. “You aren’t going to class like that are you? I know you’re usually pretty collected, but that was some heavy drinking.” 

She waves off my concern as she pulls her skirt up. “It’s cool, Alex drove me here. I told her to swing back around to pick me up. She probably went to grab donuts or something.” 

“Okay. That’s good then.” I have no idea what else to say. She’s barely acknowledging what just happened. 

She finishes getting dressed. “Bye Liz, call me again sometime. Maybe next time you’ll last longer than five minutes.” She laughs the entire way out the door. 

Ouch. She didn’t mean it, but it still stung. Also stinging, my wrists are getting a little chafed now. I stare at the ceiling. I can’t believe I just had sex with Lydia. I spent almost five years _not_ having sex with Lydia. I had such good reasons too. But all that went out the door at the first sign of any emotional interest. I’m still too drunk to process the guilt I’m probably going to be feeling tomorrow. Or to get my damn belt off. 

It’s going to be a long day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on, what's up with the title?


	11. Dessert Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Verbal Beatdown, Milkshakes, Continued Invasion of Europe

It’s still cold. Sure, it’s not as bad as this morning. But I didn’t have my pants around my ankles this morning. I’ve been wiggling at the belt wrapped around my wrists for a while. My wrists are now incredibly chafed, probably bleeding a little, and not any closer to freedom. I switch tact and try to wriggle my legs to try and shake off my pants. If they come off I can at least get up and move around. No luck though, they’re pretty firmly caught at my shoes. 

Someone knocks at my door. After a second of no response they try the handle. It’s unlocked, of course. I hadn’t exactly had a chance to lock it since Lydia left. The door starts to open. 

Alex’s voice rings through the apartment. “Hey I just dropped Lydia off at the college and came back as fast as I could. She was acting super weird and smelled like alcohol. Did you guys get fucked up without me?” 

She’s turned around, closing the door. I consider trying to hide somehow. But no plan comes to mind. She starts to turn around. “Liz? Are you hereeeeeeeee…” 

Oh no. She’s looking at me, stock still and wide eyed. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” I shout reflexively. I’m not actually sure what it looks like. 

Alex clasps her hands together against her chest and squeals. Like a little girl getting a pony. I know she likes to tease Lydia and I about each other. But I honestly wasn’t expecting this much excitement. I know Alex doesn’t care when Lydia sleeps around. But I assumed she’d feel at least a little different if it was a friend. To be fair, she _does_ look like she feels different about the situation. 

“You two finally did it, didn’t you?” She’s way too happy right now. It’s putting me off. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” I need a commemorative picture.” 

“What? No!” Too late. Her phone is already out. I hear the click. 

“Perfect. I will cherish this memory forever.” She’s got to be fucking with me. This is ridiculous. 

“Your memory of when your girlfriend got drunk and slept with her best friend?” I try to inject at least a modicum of normalcy into this situation. 

Alex calms down a bit. “Yes Liz. This is an important moment for her, for you, and _especially_ for everyone else.” 

“Everyone else?” I’m not following this. Does she not realize this wasn’t just a quick hookup? 

Alex sighs. “You don’t get it do you? Maybe you wouldn’t, you were pretty chill after that party back in the day.” What the hell is she talking about? “Liz. You innocent simpleton. I don’t know how much Lydia told you today. But she’s had it for you, bad, for years now. You two are a running joke.” 

I’m starting to get it now. It’s becoming crystal clear in fact. “So the only two people not in on it…” 

“Are you and her. Yes.” She finishes for me. “You know those soap operas where they play ‘will they or won’t they?’ for seasons and seasons? That’s you two.” 

I’m still a little shocked by Alex’s cavalier attitude. “You aren’t mad, at all?” 

Alex shakes her head. “Nope, I just won money. Thanks for sorting your shit out this year. The pot is pretty big. We’ve been going since Christmas the year before last when I almost got you to kiss under the mistletoe.” 

I groan in frustration. “No, Alex. I mean-“ 

“I know what you mean, stupid. My Lydia’s not going anywhere just because she’s into you. This is going to sound a little harsh, but you already know it. You just want to hear me say it.” She crosses her arms. 

I’m not sure what she means. “Then say whatever you need to say.” 

“She loves me more than you, Liz. She always has, and she always will. I don’t feel threatened just because you have a dick and I don’t. So if she wants to experiment with you, have a few romantic dinners, settle down and sleep with someone regularly, I don’t mind.” She’s not holding back. “Because, at the end of the day, Lydia and I are still an immutable fact of the universe, and you’re just her guilty boy-crush.” 

That was pretty brutal. I don’t have a response to that. I settle for, “All you needed to say was that you don’t feel threatened.” 

She’s back to smiling. “I call it like it is. Now let’s get you untied and cleaned up. I’m taking you out for celebratory milkshakes.” 

You can’t argue with freedom and milkshakes. I roll over to give her access to my bindings. She undoes the belt and I sit up, rubbing my wrists to get the circulation flowing again. Alex is laughing. 

“What’s so damn funny now?” I ask. 

“It’s pretty cold in here. You’re practically an innie.” She’s still giggling. 

Goddammit. I’d been so distracted I forgot about my pants. I yank them up in a hurry and glare at Alex. She just shrugs. I slip my belt on and wave her out the door. 

“Says the girl.” I mutter under my breath as I lock the door behind us. 

She must have heard me because she starts giggling again. 

A short time later we’re at the diner drinking milkshakes. Alex is hounding me for details about Lydia and I’s ‘encounter’. 

“Why’d she tie you up?” She asks. 

I take a sip of milkshake to buy time to think. I’m not sure if I really want to tell anyone about that conversation. It was pretty personal for both of us. “I teased her too much.” 

Alex nods. “You would, wouldn’t you?” 

She asks another question. “Did you have fun?” 

“If Lydia has ever left a partner anything but breathless I’ll jog around the block naked in December.” I gesture with my straw. Sprinkling milkshake all over the booth. 

Alex sighs. “No bet. I heard she gave a kid an asthma attack her first time. He had to be hospitalized.” 

I actually don’t like talking about Lydia’s sex life beyond the occasional ribbing. It’s the thing most people single her out for and that’s incredibly unfair to her. 

“How’s school treating her?” I ask. 

Alex thinks for a bit. “Pretty well actually. The work load has really dropped recently. Though I’m not sure why. She’s still skirting the top of the class.” 

She had seemed to be able to hang out more often lately. I hope she hasn’t secretly dropped any classes. I wouldn’t blame her or anything. But she’s normally such a hard worker it would almost be a shame to see her slow down. She talks about getting a doctorate at some point and she’s certainly on the right track. We estimated she could get one a little before she turned thirty, but I’m not sure she wants to put quite that much effort in. 

Of course, she could slack off completely and still put more effort into school than I did. I put so little effort in that I literally don’t know what my major was without looking. Something to do with computers. I have no idea how I scraped the credits for it together. I’m not convinced it isn’t forged and I just forgot. 

“Thinking about Lydia’s tight, sexy little brain?” Alex asks. 

I guess I zoned for a bit. “Maybe a little. Have you seen the MRIs? That neocortex was made for lovin’.” 

“Well, it helps with ‘lovin’. After a fashion.” Alex gives me a look. 

I forget that she’s in school too, and actually knows what certain parts of the body do without pulling out a phone. I am completely surround by people with more education than me. Games are my only solace. Oh, and sci-fi trivia. 

My phone buzzes. I check it and see a mass text from Lauren. It takes a minute for me to recognize the name. Alex is looking at her phone too. It’s the details for a meetup next weekend. She really is setting up a new game. Judging from the numbers the group consists of the usual, minus Greg, plus one number I don’t recognize. Must be one of Lauren’s friends. 

“We going to that?” I ask Alex. 

She looks up from her phone. “Sure. Sounds fun.” 

She pushes her milkshake across the table. “I need to go. I need to think about… things before I pick her up. Believe it or not, she’s a lot harder to talk to than you.” 

I add hers to my dwindling supply. “I get you. You don’t have anything to lose by pissing me off!” 

“That’s not true. Lydia can’t always be there for me, and I need a tall slave to reach the top shelves for me.” She flicks my head and laughs. 

I laugh too. Alex is truly a blessing. Mostly a curse though. A short, unshakable curse. She tosses some change on the table and walks out. I watch her leave before settling down to finish the milkshake. Today is starting to look a lot better. Complicated, but better. Wait. Alex drove me here. I have to walk back. Today is the worst day ever experienced by a human being. 

It takes an _hour_ to get back to my place. Sure, I could have tried sprinting again. But that sounded like a shitty plan. So I walked. The sun is pretty low when I finally walk through the door of my apartment. I swear my phone is either lying to me about the time, or the fabric of space-time is warping around me. Or maybe my days and nights have been a little too packed with stress and excitement. 

My game is still running. I unpause it and get back to the business of conquering the whole of western civilization. In minutes the filthy French have succumbed to the might of my Muslim forces. Germany, or whatever it’s calling itself at this period of history, is next. It’s a rollicking good time. 

I’m scraping together a makeshift navy for the invasion of the Scottish Isles, long story involving succession politics, when I hear another knock on my door. Three people in one day. Nobody actually comes to see me if it isn’t important. Plus, there’s a good chance it’s Alex and/or Lydia. If they want to talk, I’m obligated to listen. I open the door. It’s Blair. 

“Hi Liz.” She says. A bit shy. 

“Hi! I wasn’t expecting you.” I hadn’t been. Thus proving my inability to recognize established patterns. Like vampires showing up every night. “Come in.” I open the door and make a space for her to get by. 

She brushes against me as she passes. The touch leaves a lasting tingle. I close the door behind her and turn to face the room. 

“You used the door.” I state. 

She looks confused and points at the window. “You boarded up the window.” 

No I hadn’t. But sure enough, it’s boarded. I had been too engrossed in my game to notice the temperature change. My landlord must have had someone patch it while I was out with Alex. 

“Sorry, it had slipped my mind.” Lies. “Is there some occasion that brings you here, or is this purely a social visit?” 

There’s something off about her tonight. I can’t place my finger on it. 

She fidgets with the hem of her jacket. “Social. Sort of?” 

She’d left my place acting pretty confident last night. Now she was back to being nervous and shy. Maybe it had to do with blood consumption. But I wonder if maybe Cassie has something to do with it. Blair’s hinted that she’s been harassed by Cassie before. 

I smile. “Sort of social is fine. Have a seat, if you want.” I know from personal experience it can be more comfortable standing than sitting in someone else’s place. 

Not unexpectedly, she doesn’t sit down. She’s still picking at her jacket, not quite looking at me. “I actually wanted to know… er, wanted to ask if…” She balls her fists and straightens up a little. “I was hoping you’d want to go do… something.” 

I’m taken aback. This really is a social visit. “You want to hang out? I’m down for that. Did you have something in mind?” 

She looks up at me, a little surprised. “You are? I was… ah… I was thinking maybe we could go to a movie?” 

I desperately try to remember if anything watchable has come out in recent memory. Nothing comes to mind. If not, then at least the company will be good. “That actually sounds really good.” 

Her face warms up. Hang on. That’s it. She looks warm. She’s even blushing a little. Is she wearing makeup? 

“You look good tonight. Very… lifelike.” I could not for the life of me think of a subtle way to phrase that. 

She raises her hand to her face. “Oh, yeah. We can, um, fake it for a little. It’s hard, we have to use blood to do it, but it lets us interact better with people. It’s not real, but it does make me feel a little more like I did before… Before.” 

That’s pretty neat, actually. It’s scary that blood sucking monsters can fit right in so easily. But pretty neat nonetheless. 

“It’s a nice look for you.” Every look is a nice look for her. 

She blushes deeper. She’s killing me. She says, “We should get going. The theatre closes kind of early around here.” 

It’s true. Not a lot of places cater to night owls around here, and the theatre is particularly unkind. 

I grab my phone off the desk. “I’ll call a cab. Shall we be going?” 

She smiles and nods. In a few minutes we’re braving the chill of the evening to hit the theatre. It doesn’t occur to me until we’re already in the cab, but this might be a date. 

I hope I’m not under dressed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When is this set? Maybe Twilight is showing.


	12. Bat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings include: Date Night, Blood Rage, Gruesome Blood And Violence
> 
> The word viscera gets used at least once in this chapter.

Nothing recent looks remotely watchable except for an animated kids-ish movie. It’s sold out. But, there is a showing of the uncut, 3D, high definition rerelease of Friday the 13th. I usually avoid horror movies on account of I have a habit of nitpicking movies when they lose my investment for even a moment. I’m rarely invested in any part of a horror movie without blood. Blair is all for it though and our other options are: terrible reboot, worse sequel, or offensive comedy. We take the horror movie. 

It’s actually not that bad. I’ve never seen the original so I don’t have a baseline to judge the added footage against. Or any idea what footage is added. Blair seems to be having a good time too. She’s mostly laughing at a polite volume though. I wish I was in on the joke. All good things must end though, and so we file out of the theater. I take a short detour to the men’s room on our way to the lobby. 

Blair is playing Galaga at an arcade machine when I get back. She stops when I walk up though. I’m a little disappointed. “You don’t need to stop on my account. You were doing really good.” 

She shrugs. “It’s not as fun these days. Being a… Being like this makes it a little too easy.” 

Makes sense. I’m still curious what she was laughing about during the movie. “You were awfully giggly in there. What was that about?” 

“Oh that?” She laughs again at the memory. “I was a camp counselor for a while. Before… well you know what before. That’s why I knew how to set a bone, they made us take a serious first aid class before we could start working with the kids.” 

I nod, that makes sense. 

She looks wistful as she recollects. “Things would have gone down differently at my camp. My camp was hardcore. A lot of the kids were there as part of rehabilitation after some kind of crime. Some of the counselors had seen some shit themselves. My favorite was Jennings. He was this grizzled war vet. He had scars all over the right side of his face and his eye was terrifying. Just a white ball covered with little red and blue veins. He refused to wear an eyepatch. 

“One time, one of the kids was getting mauled by a mountain lion. So Jennings runs over, grabs the thing, and flips it right over. Then he whips out a combat knife he carries around to impress the campers and stabs the shit out of it. It ran off after that, no idea if it lived. Jennings acts like it was nothing and immediately starts first aid on the kid. He mostly was in charge of arts and crafts.” 

“That, is beautiful.” I say, awestruck. 

She nods. “I’m going to miss that place.” 

Someone clears their throat behind us. I jump at the sudden noise and spin around. It’s Cassie. Dammit. Tonight had been going so well. 

She’s in her usual outfit. Once again she’s changed her shirt. Tonight she’d like the world to get back to the kitchen and make her a sandwich. 

“You guys are late. I told you to _bring_ him out, Blair-bear, not take him out.” Cassie has her arms crossed. She’s looking a little huffy. 

Blair rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry Cass, lost track of time.” 

Cassie rolls her eyes. “If you want a guy to like you, all you need to do is shove some more blood down his throat. Once they get a taste for it they’ll do _anything_ for more.” 

“Did you need _me_ in particular for something?” I insert myself into the conversation. 

“Yeah. Extra muscle.” She’s tapping her foot now. 

I laugh at that. “You’ve got the wrong guy then. The last time I intimidated someone it was my little sister. She was seven.” 

Cassie sighs. “I don’t need anyone else for an intimidation job, you should know.” I rub my arm instinctively. “I need an extra set of hands to hurt some people. And I know you’re going to deny having the muscle to be my muscle, so let me stop you right there and remind you that you’re doped up on vampire blood. You’re going to do fine against a few humans.” 

Oh. Cool. Not really. “I’m not much of a fighter.” 

Cassie laughs. “More of a lover then? You smell like it. If you’re going to play the field you should shower between dates.” 

Blair is trying not to laugh behind me. I’m suddenly very ready to crack skulls. “All right boss. Who’s the target?” 

“A few idiots trying to sell drugs in my domain.” She says. 

“You care about drugs?” I ask, incredulous. 

Cassie shrugs. “I don’t need a bunch of chemicals floating around in my food.” 

That answer appeals to logical part of my brain. The human part is a little creeped out. Creepiness seems to be Cassie’s raison d’etre. 

“Uhm. Do I have to go too?” Blair sounds uncomfortable. 

“Yes, you do. You’ll be fine, it’s like when you did a number on loverboy here. Only you won’t need to feel guilty because you’re doing a service to the community!” I might be wrong, but I think Cassie is trying to be reassuring. 

“Sure. I guess.” Blair does not sound reassured. 

“Good. Let’s go D.A.R.E. on these assholes.” Cassie turns around. She’s wearing a backpack I hadn’t noticed. A baseball bat is poking out of the top and the rest is bulging conspicuously. 

We follow her out of the theatre and down an alleyway. It’s a long ways to our destination but no one speaks up. After twenty minutes of walking Cassie calls a halt. 

“Alright, the block after next is a parking lot. I told them to meet me there to talk about how they ignored my polite request. So load up guys.” She slips the backpack off and drops it on the ground. It hits with an ominously heavy thump. 

Cassie tosses me something. It’s a gun. I don’t know anything about guns that don’t fire lasers or hyper velocity slugs. I’ve fired one once though, at a gun range that I went to for a birthday party. “This is like… a Glock, right?” 

Cassie looks at me. “No, dumbass. Glocks are for pigs.” The condescension in her voice is palpable. “ _That_ is an _Ithaca 1911_. I’ve had it for a while, but I’m pretty good about maintenance so it should be fine. Oh, and don’t let anyone catch you with that. I use hollow points and we’re technically civilians. Also I never bothered registering it.” 

Right. Because otherwise this operation would be totally above board. 

“Here’s a knife too. Because you aren’t going to hit anything. Because you suck.” She tosses me something that is less a knife and more a very small sword. It actually does look pretty cool. I check the safety on the gun and stick it through my belt. I’m _very_ careful to make sure it’s pointing down and back. Knife goes on the other side. 

“And for my sweet little Blair…” Cassie throws something over my shoulder. “My favorite pair of knuckledusters! I taught you to throw a punch, right?” 

“Y-yeah.” Blair doesn’t seem happy about it. 

Cassie pulls out a packet of something, takes a small wrapped object out and… oh. It’s gum. She holds it out to me and Blair. We both shake our heads. Cassie shrugs, tosses it back into the bag, and hoists it back onto her shoulders. 

“Well babes. The game is on.” Cassie turns away and slides the bat out of her bag. 

Blair and I look at each other and follow Cassie out of the alley and down the street. 

I’m getting a lot less confident about this venture, and I hadn’t been confident to start. Cassie clearly has a two strikes policy. Where the second strike is a tactical nuke. I’m not sure I can handle the kind of violence implied by being handed a firearm. Blair seems even worse. She looks like she’s going to be sick. 

Sure enough six guys are waiting for us at the meeting point. Cassie marches straight towards them. Blair and I flank her. We probably look out of place, we certainly can’t match her confidence. 

One of the thugs speaks up. “You said you were coming alone. Who are these fucks?” 

“ _You_ said you were going to stay off my land. And if you thought I was going to meet six of you assholes alone at night you’re exactly as dumb as I thought. Meet the crew.” Cassie blows a bubble and pops it sharply. “Left is Liz, right is Blair.” 

“We don’t need to know your names, we need your little girl ass to leave us alone before we have to hurt you.” Their leader seems agitated. 

Cassie snorts. “If you think I’m some little girl who’s watched too many superhero movies, why’d you bring six people to deal with me?” 

One of the others snaps “Cuz you workin’ for someone and they figure we won’t hurt a little girl!” 

“But they’re wrong. We’re gonna put you three in the hospital to send a message.” The leader says. 

I can’t see her face but I can tell she’s rolling her eyes. “Liz. Pick someone and shoot him.” 

Okay. Yeah. Sure. Fine. I’ve thrown four punches in anger in my life. But I’ll just fire off the opening shots of a gang fight. I start to draw the gun. 

Their leader is faster. He’s pointing a gun at me. He hasn’t shot yet. Which is dumb for a lot of reasons. He turns the gun on Cassie. “Fire that thing at us and I put a bullet in the girl.” 

For a second I panic. What if she gets hurt? I shove it down though, it’s her stupid blood affecting me. Besides, he could probably empty that gun into her and she’d just laugh while she tore him apart. 

I tick the safety off and level the gun at him. He keeps his trained on Cassie. Cassie groans. “Don’t be a little bitch Liz. You gotta grow some balls one of these nights. Like when you first met Blair.” 

She’s got a point. I hadn’t exactly been squeamish when I thought I was going to die. I’m definitely afraid of dying now. Fuck it. How had I learned to do it at the range? Firm grip with both hands. Thumb away from the slide. Look down the sights. Breathe out on each shot. I twist from the leader to the guy on the far left and squeeze the trigger twice. He staggers but doesn’t go down. Oh yeah, this isn’t a movie. Damn weak ass real life bullets. Damn weak ass aim. 

Their leader makes the wrong decision and switches his aim to me. He’s firing one handed and I’m further away than Cassie. He gets one shot off before Cassie slams her bat up between his legs. He _does_ go down. 

Everything goes to shit really fast after that. Two more of them have guns, they decide to shoot wildly at me. I’m shooting back at them, less wildly but not much more accurately. Two guys are trying to pull Cassie off of their boss while she repeatedly smashes what used to be his face with her baseball bat. Blair is hugging herself and trying not to look. 

Finally one of the guys I’m shooting at goes down clutching his chest. But I am, unfortunately, now out of ammo. The second gunner is not. He snaps off two more shoots. I feel like someone just punched me in the side. I just got shot. A little to the left of my abs. It hurts. It hurts because a motherfucker just shot me. This aggression will not stand. 

My vision goes a little red as I sprint across the distance between me and my shooter. He manages to pull a knife in the intervening moments. I don’t bother grabbing mine. He swings at me and I take the cut across my forearm, with the other I lunge forwards and grab him by the neck. 

As I raise him up I can see his face in the light from a nearby streetlamp. He’s scared. I feel a rush of euphoria. A bigger, better adrenaline rush. I squeeze until I can feel the crunch of buckling cartilage. A scream tapers off into a barely audibly squeak as his trachea collapses under the pressure. I smile as his eyes roll up into his head. I guess I got his carotids too. I let him fall. Oops. 

Something smacks across the back of my head. Stars erupt through my vision. I spin around. I’m a little dazed, but I recognize the first guy I shot. There’s two large blood stains on his shirt. A sense of pride fills me at that. He’s swinging a collapsible baton at me. I manage to block it with my already abused arm. I’m still a little groggy from the smack to my head so he manages to get another hit in. This time at my side. The one with the bullet wound. I grab him. He tries to twist away, but I’m feeling that rush again. Adrenaline’s ripped big brother. I have him by the shoulder. I shove my other arm past his flailing limbs and grab his head, forcing it down towards my rising knee. He hits chin first, I’d been aiming for the nose, but the audible crack of snapping bone echoing through the parking lot lets me know it didn’t make a difference. 

I let him fall to the ground and stare at him. His lower face is almost unrecognizable. I’m not even sure he’s alive anymore, but I kick him in the ribs anyways. I turn to check on Cassie. Just in time to see her winding up to smash her bat into the dude kneeling front of her. There’s something about the angle that- oh crap. She swings the bat as I try to jump out of the way, but I’m too slow. A cloud of blood, viscera, and bone fragments showers over me. She’d just fucking _vaporized_ the top half of that guy’s head. Her other victims don’t look any better. Some of them look worse. 

She kicks the still kneeling corpse backwards and turns to check on me. She’s covered in just about every kind of gore imaginable and grinning like a demon. “Liz! You actually did it! I thought I was going to have to play by myself this time.” 

I’m still a little shell shocked at the mess I’m covered in. Also the killing I just did. I feel a little sick about that actually. A lot sick. The rush of adrenaline and what I assume was vampire blood is fading from my system. It feels like the worst caffeine crash I ever had, times five. It’s too much. I hurl. All over one of the corpses. Oh well. He’s not going to feel bad about it. 

Cassie looks away. “Jesus Christ Liz, that’s fucked up. Couldn’t handle your first dust up?” 

I’m still gagging a little so I just shake my head to indicate that no, in fact, I was not handling my first ‘dust up’ at all. 

I hear sirens. They’re pretty close. Cassie hears them too. “Fuck. The cops.” She dashes across the parking lot and grabs the gun I discarded. “Hurry up you two. I’ve got a safehouse nearby.” 

Gun safely recovered, she starts running toward an alley across the lot. I have to sprint as fast as I can to catch up. Blair passes me before I’m even halfway to Cassie. Fucking vampires. I manage to keep up long enough to reach Cassie’s ‘safehouse’ though. It’s a motel. Specifically a motel room. At the end of the building furthest from the road. It’s ratty, it’s dingy, and everything is stained where it isn’t faded. But nothing’s moving in the shadows at least. 

“Nice place right?” Cassie asks as she pulls a few trash bags out from under a sink. “Owner lets me use it because I took care of a vampire that used to hang out around here. Not that he knew it was a vampire killing people here. But I solved the problem and added the dead guy’s territory to my domain.” She tosses Blair and I a bag each. “Here, dump your clothes in these.” 

Why Blair too? I look at her. She’s got a bloody hole in her jacket. She must have taken a stray shot. For a second my vision starts to go red again. I calm myself down. The shooter is already dead. 

Cassie is already stripped down and rinsing off at the sink. I catch myself checking out her legs and rear. I almost throw up again. What the hell? Vampire blood, it makes you check out preteens. At least it was beyond my control. Her being a however many years old vampire helped too. You know. Because that made it better somehow. More legal, anyways. I am thinking about this way too much. 

I focus on disrobing myself and stuffing everything in the bag. My clothes are an absolute disaster. Not from my handiwork, though there is a bit of a stain on my knee, but from standing in Cassie’s splash zone. I briefly flash back to my own kills. The shooting hadn’t felt like a big deal. It was distant, a step removed. Basically getting off on crushing a dude’s throat with my bare hand, though? That leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. I’m not going to feel clean for weeks. 

When my mind finally makes it back to the present I notice Cassie talking. To me, presumably. “…Boy clothes. You can probably fit in some of Blair’s though. She’s not much smaller than you and digs baggy shit.” She asks from the closet. 

Cassie throws a hoodie and some jeans at me. “You want some underwear too? I don’t have anything too fancy in adult sizes but some of Blair’s has cute little bows.” 

Blair’s underwear, there’s a thought. A thought I will be avoiding for now. “No thanks, I can go commando as long as we stay away from any strip clubs.” 

I slip into the jeans. They actually fit pretty well. My ankles show though. The jacket’s good too. I leave the hood down though. Wouldn’t want to jack Blair’s style completely. 

Speaking of. Blair exits the bathroom. I hadn’t noticed her going in to change. She throws her bag of clothes at the foot of the bed next to mine and Cassie’s. Her face is unreadable. 

Cassie almost runs into her when she pops out of the closet. “You okay sweetie? You look like you saw a murder.” 

“You know how I feel when I have to be there for business.” Blair says quietly, staring at the floor.” 

I could swear I see genuine concern on Cassie’s face. “Blair… You need to get used to these things. The nights are dangerous these days. You have to crack a few skulls sometimes.” 

“I… I can’t. It’s too much.” Blair shakes her head. 

Cassie puts a hand on Blair’s shoulder. “You wanted this. Don’t waste it by wussing out on me.” 

A tear drips from Blair’s face. “Maybe I am a wuss. Why don’t you turn him instead?” She points at me. I feel pretty awkward getting dragged into this conversation. “He didn’t ‘wuss out’ on you!” 

“I wouldn’t _want_ to embrace him! Mostly because…” She turns to look at me. I’m curious what her answer is going to be. “Shit! Because he’s a fucking moron. You’re still bleeding, dumbass.” 

Blair looks up at me and covers her mouth. I look down. Yep. My arm is soaked and there’s a nice stain forming over my stomach. 

Cassie shoves her face into her hand. “Get your clothes off and get in the shower until you figure out to put yourself back together.” 

A sensible request. I strip back down in the bathroom and stand in the shower. I’m not really sure what to do from here. 

Cassie and Blair are staring at me expectantly. 

I look back and forth between them. They aren’t saying anything. “It’s cold in here!” 

Cassie pinches her temples. “Cute. Now get to healing yourself. It’s seriously not hard. Just focus on your… vampire… ness. Then will yourself to heal. It should actually be _easier_ for you. What with the living flesh and all.” 

‘Vampireness’ actually makes sense to me. I’ve felt it occasionally when I’m angry, or afraid, or savoring the thrill of someone losing consciousness in my grip. It’s weak right now. Maybe it got tired from earlier. I try to poke and prod at it, willing myself back to health like Cassie said. Nothing happens. 

Something seems to occur to Cassie. “Dammit, you’re dry aren’t you? You got all frenzied and frothed up and used it all for fighting.” She seems to cheer up at that. “Good. We’ll make something of you yet. Maybe you can help Blair let her beast loose.” 

“What?” That sounded pretty dirty. 

Cassie rolls her eyes. “Not what I meant. Don’t be a…” She reconsiders what she was about to say. “Well _do_ be a pervert. It’s fun. Just not when I’m talking. Unless I’m talking dirty.” 

I think I’ll try not to be a pervert around her at all. Just to be safe. 

Cassie continues her earlier thought. “If you’re empty you need a fill up. You ate recently, right Blair?” 

Blair nods. “Yeah… but-“ 

Cassie interrupts. “Then you should take care of it. Unless you want him to start warming up to me even more. I haven’t had a ghoul in a while and he could probably learn enough tricks to be useful.” 

Blair frowns at that. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” 

“Good to hear.” Cassie nods. “Want me to dig out some syringes or are you a traditionalist?” 

Blair raises her wrist to her mouth and drags her fangs across it. She sticks her arm into the shower and presents the oozing wound. I remember how Cassie’s blood had tasted. Does Blair taste just as good? I want to know. _Need_ to know. I grab her arm and lock my lips around the gash in her arm. Is it as good? Yes and no. The taste is the same, but less concentrated. Blair’s blood isn’t the thick, tarry goop that Cassie’s is. But it’s _Blair’s_. I lose myself in the euphoria of vampiric ambrosia. 

“Don’t go overboard there, champ.” Cassie’s voice interrupts. “That should be enough to be getting along with.” 

Blair pulls away. It takes a conscious effort not to whimper. What’s happening to me? I try to heal again. Fresh blood has awakened the dark, hungry monster in the back of my brain. It’s a quiet thing, half asleep most of the time. I think it’s weak because I’m not a vampire. Just a less pale imitation. I give it a poke though and try to invoke some vampire regeneration. 

I feel the bullet pushing out of my abdomen. It lands in the bottom of the shower with a clatter. The hole closes up behind it. I look at my arm. The long gash knits itself back together in seconds. This is so cool. I feel like a demigod. 

I look up at Blair. “Thanks for the blood.” I quickly look away again though. “Sorry I… sorry I lost it tonight.” I look back. “I had fun at the movie. Thanks for going.” 

Cassie makes a gagging noise. But Blair Stares at me for a second. “I had fun too. Thank you.” 

“Alright. We’re going to scout around and make sure none of this comes back to us. You stay here and hold down the fort. Nobody comes in. If someone gets in, they don’t leave.” Cassie says, dragging Blair out of the bathroom with her. “So take your shower, and maybe see if you can clean up around here a little, why don’t you?” 

The door closes behind them and I’m left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts about Blair. Thoughts about myself. Thoughts about gruesome death. I turn the shower on and start to rinse off. My life is spiraling out of control and I have no idea what to do about it. 

Hey, this place has warm water! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boink!


End file.
